


The Happy Deviancy of Steve Rogers

by Dark Kaerith (Kaerith)



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Bestiality, Bottom Steve Rogers, Chastity Device, Dehumanization, Dominance, Feminization, Hulk Sex (Marvel), Humiliation, Large Cock, M/M, Male Lactation, Medical Kink, Mpreg, Oral Sex, Pony Play, Safe Insane and Consensual, Sex Toys, Size Difference, Small Penis, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:55:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 40,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23216617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaerith/pseuds/Dark%20Kaerith
Summary: After encountering internet porn, Steve has uncovered some unusual desires. He meets someone with unusual mutations who can make his filthiest dreams come true.(Mostly PWP id/wank-fic. Please see individual chapter titles for more tags.)
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Steve Rogers, Clint Barton/Steve Rogers, Peter Parker/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 23
Kudos: 214





	1. P/S, dom/sub, anon sex, big dick Peter, oral, leg humping, slight exhibitionism

**Author's Note:**

> Written for me and posted for the other dirty fanfic readers to enjoy. 
> 
> No con/crit wanted, but feel free to comment with suggestions. I have seven chapter of various length written so far.
> 
> Not all kinks are listed in tags and chapters because I crammed so many in there. Something may squick you, but everything is framed as consensual.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve encounters a mutant who seems to know exactly what kind of treatment he has been dreaming about.

Steve is startled and concerned when something wet hits him and plasters him against the wall of the alley. He knocks his head against the brick and squints as his vision takes a moment to return. 

A red and blue figure drops from the dark sky. It comes closer to Steve and his knees almost tremble with relief. 

"You're that spider-kid Tony told me about-" 

Spider-Man comes uncomfortably close into Steve's personal space. Steve stops squirming to get out from the web material when a gloved hand pushes against his chest. 

Steve tries to see through the white lenses covering the eye of the mask but cannot make out any clues about the person's identity. Spider-Man jerks his head at the door Steve emerged from and tilts it in an inquisitive manner. 

He knew where Steve had been. Steve starts to get a hot feeling of embarrassment and panic. He holds his tongue for a couple minutes before caving against the other man's silence. "They don't know. The other Avengers. And I don't think anyone in there knows who I am." He ducks his head in shame. "I just..." He can't finish that thought because of the weight of all the horrible and perverted things he feels and desires blocks his throat. 

The gloved hand on his chest slides up to settle on his shoulder and starts urging him down. 

The webbing has slackened, and Steve drops to his knees with a gasp. Spider-Man steps away and starts rubbing his own groin. Steve's gaze is riveted on the crux of the hero's thighs. Mindlessly, a whimper escapes him and he can feel himself start to salivate. The sound snaps his brain to its usual higher function, and he looks up to the man's face with a cringe. 

Spider-Man runs a hand through his hair soothingly and starts to tug at his costume with the other. Steve lets his spine sag and his ass presses against his heels. "I want to. Can I?" His voice comes out breathy and slutty; his body is releasing endorphins giving him a floaty and fuzzy feeling. He wants this. 

Spider-Man pulls out a hardening dick and the size of it boggles Steve's mind. How could the man have that tucked away in what looked like Spandex?! 

The fattening tip is offered to Steve and he wastes no time in leaning forward and rubbing the shaft with his cheek. He pushes his nose into the man's pubic hair and inhales the scent before pulling back to lap his tongue at the glans emerging from the foreskin. 

The cock fills rapidly, ending nearly as long and thick as one of Spider-Man's thighs. It's something Steve would have thought biologically impossible for such a slender figure to carry. This enhanced is _enhanced_ , he thinks, and has to stifle a hysterical mental giggle. 

Spider-Man ends the foreplay by pulling Steve's head forward and cramming as much of his dick that he can into Steve's mouth. It pushes past Steve's reflexive gagging and he can feel it snaking into his throat. Steve is helpless as his partner takes full control over his head using his supernatural strength; he gasps and swallows as he is _used._ Tears run down his cheeks. He loves it. 

Spider-Man's entire body goes rigid when he comes. Steve's face is pressed against his crotch and he is at Spider-Man's mercy, unable to move to gain himself a breath of oxygen. He can feel every throb and twitch of that dick as it pumps what seems like an impossible amount of semen into his stomach. 

When his head is released the cock slides out of Steve's throat and he can feel every inch. He nearly collapses onto the disgusting piss-reeking concrete of the alley. 

Spider-Man shifts his stance, placing one foot on the ground between Steve's knees. He taps his foot and Steve glances down to see the toe of the booted foot point at his own dick. Steve is hard and his pants are tented with his excitement. He hadn't really noticed, being so consumed with pleasing the other hero. 

He raises his eyes to the expressionless mask. Spider-Man nudges his boot under Steve's cock and balls. Steve lowers his hands to unzip his trousers, but Spider-Man shakes his head emphatically and pushes his shin into Steve's crotch. 

The man's meaning hits Steve and he closes his eyes and groans, hitching his hips forward into the man's leg to rub himself. He grips his wrists behind his back while Spider-Man's gloved hand twists roughly in his hair and grinds against the leg until he comes. Spider-Man stands still, supporting him until Steve catches his breath, then carefully steps backward. He nods and does an odd two-fingered salute before whisking himself back up into the sky. 

Steve was left sprawled on his ass in an alley, sated but unsatisfied. He hoped to meet Spider-Man and be able to talk with him, and maybe do something like this again.


	2. P/S, dom/sub, humiliation, verbal feminization, sex toys

The next two times Steve encountered Spider-Man they were both in battle. Spider-Man left before Steve could find him to introduce himself properly. 

* * *

"This is Peter. You could call him my protege," Tony said, introducing a young man to Steve. Steve had been surprised that Tony had brought a stranger up into the Tower's top floors. 

"Nice to meet you. I'm Steve." He smiled politely. 

* * *

His next encounter with Peter was more intense. 

Steve entered his suite dripping with sweat from working out. His first indication that something was wrong was that JARVIS didn't automatically turn the lights on when he entered the room. 

"Lights?" Steve asked. 

The flat screen on the wall suddenly flicked on, in the middle of playing one of his most frequently watched porn videos. 

"You love dick, right Steve?" 

Steve whipped his head around. "What!? Peter?" The boy's figure was slightly illuminated by the glow of the TV. Despite his lean stature, there was something menacing in Peter's demeanor. 

Peter stepped forward and Steve instinctively stepped back and reached behind him for the door knob. With a gesture, fluid shot across the space between the two men and webbed the door shut. 

Steve's breath caught. "You're Spider-Man?" 

Peter continued approaching him. "I usually like my toys with a bit more... curves. But you weren't half bad at choking down my cock. You can have it again. Drop to your knees if you want it." Peter rubbed his crotch and Steve could see the bulge there, reminding him of the monster and how it had felt taking possession of his throat. 

Steve fell to his knees. 

Suddenly Peter was in his personal space, leaning over him and fisting his hair. He examined Steve's face with sharp, intelligent eyes. "Oh, yeah, you're thirsty for it. JARVIS let me take a peek at your porn bookmarks. Nasty stuff, Steve. What would Tony think if he found out what you really think about yourself?" 

Steve trembled with shame and fear. "You're not going to tell anyone." His statement was more of a plea than the threat he had meant it to be. 

"Nah," Peter said dismissively, to Steve's relief. "I figure we match pretty well. I like dominating large men who are really needy bitch boys inside. You want to be used and debased. We could reach an agreement." 

"You can't dominate me," Steve said incredulously. 

Peter pulled his cock from his pants. Fully aroused, it was as long and thick as Steve remembered. Abruptly it whacked Steve in the face. It was almost like being hit with a club. 

Steve bit back a curse. He felt his dick twitch at the humiliating abuse. 

"Don't you remember that night in the alley, Steve?" Peter pressed. "You gobbled my dick like you were starving for it, then humped my leg like a dog." 

Steve knew his entire face was red. He felt light-headed and incandescent. 

"I didn't need to say a word, you wanted my cum so bad." The dick hit him again, leaving a sticky smear of wetness on Steve's cheek. "I promise you, if you want cum I am your best bet. My powers encompass more than flexibility, strength, and being able to climb walls. This," he wrapped both of his hands around his shaft and there was still another palm's width left on the length, "is practically a hose. I can drench you in my jizz." 

Steve's mouth was dry and he did not realize that it was hanging open as he panted. His eyes had gone round and dark. 

"Just look at you," Peter said condescendingly. "You're begging for me to prove it. Tell me you wanna be a cumdump, Steve, and I'll give you more than a taste." 

Steve knew it was stupid, but here was someone talking to him like something from his fantasies. "Please. I want to be your cumdump." 

"Take off your clothes," Peter commanded, stepping away and working his hands up and down his cock. 

Steve stood and pulled off his shirt before pushing down his shorts and briefs. He was so fogged by lust that he didn't think about his shame. Peter noticed. 

"Did your dick stay tiny while the serum worked for everything else?" 

Steve knew his blush was creeping down his chest. He managed to keep himself from hiding his four-inch penis. 

"Aw, don't be shy, Steve. I like my slutty bitches with cute little clits. I think you could easily tuck that into a nice pair of panties, don't you?" 

"...I've never thought about it," Steve replied quietly when Peter's tone and expression demanded an answer. 

Peter stepped close and held his nearly foot-long shlong next to Steve's short rod. The contrast was plain; Peter's erection was long, thick, purple, and striated with veins, while Steve's penis looked stubby, rosy, and almost soft-looking with it's fleshiness. 

"Looks like a bitch-clit to me. What does it look like to you?" 

"...It looks like a bitch-clit," Steve repeated, mortified yet turned on beyond his belief. 

"Kneel," Peter commended. Steve did, and was soon showered with a spray of cum. It plastered his hair to his scalp, ran down his face to his chest, and he sputtered in shock. It was an unbelievable amount of semen; Steve couldn't wrap his brain around the reality of it. 

Peter shook his dick off before tucking it back in his clothes. Steve watched his actions numbly, shocked into stillness. 

"Do not touch your clit tonight. If you want to come, feel free to use your pussy. I left you a few gifts on your bed." 

Steve didn't turn to watch Peter remove the webbing from the door and leave. 

It took Steve a while to get the impetus to stand up and walk to his bedroom. He was so turned on, all he could focus on was the feel and smell of his filthy skin and his needy erection. 

There were two items on the bed: a large tube of lube and an unwieldy dildo. It wasn't as big as Peter's cock at 7 inches and definitely not as thick. Steve tore it out of its packaging and took the gifts into the shower. 

It took some time for Steve to reach completion, but he came on his knees in the dry shower without touching his clit, ass stuffed with fake cock, running his hands through the drying mess Peter had showered him with.


	3. P/S, sex toys, dom/sub, feminization, daddy kink, feeding, oral sex

Every time Steve entered his rooms he hoped to see Peter. He remained disappointed for three days after that first encounter in his suite. He used the dildo religiously, though, listening to his favorite porn clips and imagining it was Peter debasing him. 

Finally he saw Peter in the lobby of the Tower. 

"Hey!" Peter called, and walked quickly through the scattering of the lunch-hour crowd. Steve held the elevator door open so Peter could join him and a handful of other men and women waiting to go up. 

"Thanks," Peter said with a quick grin. Here, in public, all the intensity Steve had associated with the young man was gone. He was a slightly-built intern with a bit of a careless demeanor and floppy hair. 

Though they appeared to ignore each other after that quick exchange, Steve's body responded to Peter's proximity. After obsessing over Spider-Man for two weeks Steve's body was primed, and his senses were fixated on picking up all the sense data that he could. He could smell what Peter had ate for lunch, feel his body heat, and hear the man's breathing. 

Finally, they were alone, and Steve was shoved face-first against the steel wall. Peter pressed up against him and must have raised himself up on his toes to whisper into Steve's ear. "I know how needy your clit and cunt are for me. Your nipples are hard, too. I want to fuck your tits, slut, then come on your face. Nod if you that's something you want." 

Steve felt himself quiver all over. He nodded. 

"Great," Peter said cheerfully, stepping away. "Take me up to your apartment." 

When they entered Steve's entrance hall, as soon as the door closed behind them, Peter was pushing down his trousers and briefs. "I want you naked and on the floor." 

Steve complied, removing his clothes and kneeling in the center of his living room. Peter followed him, pumping his cock. 

"Now lie down." 

When Steve was on his back on the floor, Peter knelt over him, straddling his chest, still double-fisting his huge dick. "Hmm," he said, contemplating Steve's pectorals, "Wish they were bigger. Maybe they can be, in time." He let his cock drop to lay along Steve's sternum. "Push your tits together as much as you can." 

Steve tried, but since they were all muscle they didn't encompass much of Peter's girth. Peter looked stern and disappointed. 

"It seems like you are more of a little girl than the slut you want to be." 

Steve's face and neck burned at the condescension, but he knew it wasn't his role to protest. 

"Good thing I was prepared if this was the case." Peter stood up and stepped away to rifle through his messenger bag. "Here we go." He filled out something flimsy and pink then tossed it to Steve. 

It was a pair of panties. Lacy with white bows, but obviously cut for a man. Steve held them by his fingertips, surprised. 

"Steve!" Peter snapped darkly. His face, when Steve looked, was stern but not cruel. "If Daddy gives you a present, what do you say?" 

This was new, but Steve's dick twitched at the humiliation. "Thank you Daddy." His voice came out unintentionally small and timid, but Peter obviously liked that. 

"Put them on." 

Steve stood up and did, feeling his face flame as he lifted each foot then slid them up his legs. They felt so delicate, and he didn't know what to do with his dick, so he tucked it under. 

"Oh, baby," Peter cooed, moving closer. "Keep your clitty in the front. I want to see how much you love your panties." 

Steve rearranged himself. He did like the panties or at least the embarrassment; his tip was damp. The stiff material of the lace cupped his penis but his pubic and leg hair ruined the aesthetic. 

"Next time I see you, I want all that hair gone: I want your groin, legs, balls, and ass soft and bare. Can you do that for me, baby?" 

Steve closed his eyes and trembled at the gentleness in Peter's voice. "Yes, Daddy." 

"What do you have planned for this afternoon?" 

Steve thought and replied, "Just have to phone in to HQ. I was planning on working out. Otherwise, nothing else." 

"Skip the workout. If you get rid of the hair, I'll come up with dinner. Does that sound good?" 

Steve felt something hot clench in his stomach. "Yes." 

"Great." Peter checked his watch. "My lunch break is almost over. If you can get me off quick, I won't be too late getting back to the lab." 

Steve nodded and dropped back onto his knees. Peter came closer and cupped his face in his hands. His eyes gleamed as he looked down at Steve. 

"I really like you like this. Will you take my cock?" 

Steve nodded, still speechless. He opened his mouth and closed his eyes. 

* * *

It was nearing 5 and Steve was antsy, his stomach full of butterflies at the thought of seeing Peter again. 

He had followed directions earlier and had shaved off all the hair below his waist. His bare legs made everything feel new; just the feeling of his clothes rubbing against his skin was something erotic. Each brush of fabric reminded him of the power he was giving Peter. 

His dick had been hard all afternoon. Peter hadn't explicitly forbidden Steve from getting himself off, just ordered him to be wearing nothing but the panties when he came back for dinner. But Steve enjoyed the anticipation. 

Finally Peter knocked on the door and Steve was escorting him in. "Hey baby," Peter said, dropping take-out bags on the coffee table. Steve shivered as Peter's eyes darkened while he inspected him. Soon, Peter was kneeling on the floor, running his hands up and down Steve's legs. Steve had to bite back the moans until they were jolted out of him in surprise when Peter's fingers slipped under the panties to examine his balls and crack. 

When Peter stood up, he was grinning with approval. "Good job. I love how smooth you feel. Do you like it?" 

Steve nodded, blushing. 

Peter cupped his hands on Steve's pecs, turning his face up to be kissed. Steve complied. It was like being devoured. He could feel precome moistening the head of his penis as it throbbed for attention. Instead, Peter's fingers plucked at his nipples until he backed down. 

"Let's have something to eat?" The younger man suggested. 

Steve reluctantly nodded. Peter refused to let him move the food into the kitchen. "I want to feed you," he said, then sat on the couch and guided Steve until he was kneeling between Peter's legs on the ground facing him. 

Steve couldn't recall what he ate; the whole meal he was lost in Peter's eyes and voice as the hero fed him with his fingers between compliments and loving strokes on his face and hair. His mind practically shut itself down with the attention and pleasure. 

Finally, Peter was feeding Steve his cock again. Steve took it easily down his throat for the second time that day. The cum filled his stomach more than the food had. When Peter pulled out, he petted the little bulge Steve's overfilled belly made over the lace and ribbons of his panties. 

"My seminal fluid has changed since my mutation," Peter said, gently guiding Steve to lay back on the floor. "I've studied the contents. Somehow, my body pumps out a lot of casein and glucose- sugar and fat." Peter sprawled out between Steve's thighs and peeled the panties down from Steve's hard, weeping erection. "Those things tend to make foods addictive and can cause weight gain. Like fast food. Would you mind being addicted to eating my cum, Steve? Would you like my jizz to give you a soft little tummy?" 

Steve hummed agreeably, fixated on the sight of Peter's lips so close to his desperate dick. Peter tickled Steve's bare pubic area with his fingertips before starting to lick at Steve's penis. Steve squirmed and whimpered in ecstasy. 

Peter lifted his head up briefly. "Do you like my mouth on your little clitty, Steve?" 

"Yes!" Steve cried out, fisting his hands in his own hair. "Please make me come!" 

"No problem, baby."


	4. P/S, dom/sub, body modification, weight gain, sex toys, feminization, bursting out of clothes

Three weeks later and Peter had practically moved in to Steve's suite in the Tower. Steve's routine had changed dramatically, and his body was in the process of dramatic changes, too. 

When he woke up, Steve's first desire was to feed from his huge cock. The thick fluid smelled and tasted amazing, and having a full stomach of Peter's cum made Steve feel warm and happy. Of course, getting a blow job first thing in the morning made Peter pretty happy too, and they would lie in bed for awhile just touching. Sometimes Peter would allow Steve to get off and sometimes not. 

Steve's belly had rounded out more. He was sporting what Peter affectionately referred to as a "musclegut." 

After showering together and eating breakfast, Peter would go down to work. Steve would shave his lower body. Then he would put on what Peter had laid out for him to wear on their bed. Along with T-shirts, sweats or jeans, and various types of undergarments, Peter often left out toys like buttplugs or a cockcage or the vacuum pumps that were slowly enlarging Steve's nipples. Peter often came up during his lunch hour to play with Steve and feed him another load of cum. 

Peter had been right about his cum: it was addictive. Steve wanted it more and more, and whatever was in it was also making Steve gain weight. He had already had to get his uniform altered to fit his thicker stomach, thighs, ass, and pecs. 

Peter had measured Steve's new curves and ordered him piles of lacy and satiny lingerie. Steve's tits could fill a B-cup, and Peter loved having Steve wear thongs. Alone, Steve felt a little silly and desperate, but the way Peter's eyes simultaneously lit up and darkened somehow made him feel like the sexiest thing on earth. 

After work, Peter would come home and indulge in another quickie before they ordered something for dinner. Peter often fed Steve from his fingers. They would spend the evening watching TV or fool around before Peter went out as Spider-Man or stay in and curl up together in bed and going to sleep. 

It was domestic and routine and fun, and something Steve had never thought he would have. He also had the benefit of having Peter debase him in all the secret ways Steve had never known he had craved until he had encountered the wide variety of internet porn. 

* * *

But there were times when Peter couldn't muster the dominant persona. Those were the days when Peter got quiet and sweet. He would shyly cuddle up to Steve and examine him with big worried brown eyes. 

"Hey," Steve said the second or third time he noticed Peter acting that way. He used a hand to gently push Peter's hair out of his eyes. The size of his hand made Peter's skull look like a small, fragile thing. He pulled Peter against him and kissed his hair. "This is fine. We can do things like this, too." 

Steve would lay on his front and suck until Peter came with a cry, his entire body curled around Steve's head like they were the whole world. 

* * *

With his home life so fulfilling, Steve didn't get very excited about missions with the team anymore. There had only been two emergencies the Avengers had needed to respond to since he and Peter had started their relationship, but Steve's teammates could tell something was different. 

The topic was broached on transport back from South America and the latest mission. 

"Well, I'm happy to see that one of you meatheads has stopped being actively suicidal," Hill said. 

The team looked around and saw that Steve, Nat, and Hill were the least banged up of the group. 

"Cap even waited for the jet to land before jumping out," Clint pointed out. "What's wrong, Steve?" 

Tony uncovered his face to give them all a sour look. "He's fucking my favorite intern." 

There were expressions of surprise from everyone but Tony and Steve. Steve looked warily at Tony's countenance: he wasn't angry, but he was definitely disapproving. 

"Is this a relationship thing?" Sam asked Steve. Steve shrugged, keeping his eyes looking at the window across from him, but knew he was blushing. 

"It's been going on for nearly a month," Tony said. "Cap doesn't even spend any time down in the gym anymore. I assume it's because he's spending all that excess energy banging my intern over every piece of furniture in the apartment I am letting him live in for free." 

Steve felt mingled glee and shame as he mentally corrected who was banging whom. He made sure he didn't rise to the bait, though. 

"That would explain why your suit's stretching a bit more over your ass," Nat said quietly into Steve's ear. He frowned and waved her away, blushing harder. 

Oddly, Maria was looking at Steve sharply. "If your heart's not into this anymore, we can move you off the active duty list." 

Steve cleared his throat and nodded. "Yeah. That would be good. I... I like being home with Peter. I don't really need all this," he indicated the team and the job with a circling gesture, "anymore." 

When Steve got home he crept into the bedroom and nuzzled at Peter's dick as the man slept in their bed. 

Peter was more than half-hard when he opened his eyes and grabbed Steve's hair. Holding his head in place, Peter thrust his hips up to grind his cock against his face. Steve's mouth was open, but he couldn't get enough leverage to actually get Peter's dick into his mouth. 

He could see Peter's smirk even in the dark. "Hey baby, you hungry?" 

"Yeah," Steve said. "Pete, God, I'm starving for it." 

"You're going to keep your mouth on my cock until I come at least twice, okay?" 

Steve nodded. He could feel himself drooling at how close he was to getting his belly filled. 

Peter's dick went down Steve's throat and he kept swallowing until Peter came. The man spurted cum for at least a full thirty seconds Steve could feel his empty stomach start to round out with the volume of semen Peter shot into him. The warmth of the cum made Steve feel floaty and good and so happy to be home. His Captain America suit felt even tighter around his middle, but Peter wouldn't let him even squirm enough to get his hands free to unzip the uniform. 

Steve pulled off Peter's dick enough so he could start stimulating the head of it with his tongue. It didn't take long for Peter to groan and shove Steve's nose back into his pubic hair to directly pump more jizz down Steve's throat. 

Steve's moans at the pleasure and pressure were stifled by Peter's dick. When a sound tore through the silence of the room it was a ripping noise as the seams along Steve's hips split open. Steve could feel his new love handles exposed to the cool night air. 

"Fuck, I love that!" Peter panted, and he spurt more of his fattening mutant cum into Steve.


	5. P/S, dom/sub, weight gain, bondage, chastity

Tony kicked Steve out of the Tower. Well, he implied it rather than said it outright, and Steve just moved into the smaller SI apartment Peter had in another building a block down. 

"Your job," Peter said before leaving Steve alone in the apartment for the first day, "is to eat and masturbate. There's the toys in the bedroom and protein and weight gain powders in the kitchen. If you're going to be my unemployed partner, you've got to commit to being a large, lazy full-time bitch boy cumslut." 

Almost dizzy with humiliation, Steve could only nod. Peter gave him a final wave before leaving 

* * *

Steve squirmed. His hands and feet were webbed to the four corners of the bed, the covers that had been underneath his naked body pushed down onto the floor. 

Peter sat astride him, his huge dick hard and laying over Steve's body like a club, using his mouth to torture Steve's nipples. They had puffed out more even as his chest had gained fat over the muscles. They could truly be called tits now. Bitch-tits, Peter liked to say. 

Steve knew he had no hope of fitting into his Captain America suit anymore. He could feel the jiggling of his ass and thighs as he writhed under Peter's attention. Steve had had to go out the other day, and could only barely manage to squeeze his soft body into what had been his loosest clothes. 

It turned him on that he was basically a prisoner in Peter's apartment unless he could be brave enough to go outside in clothing that could tear apart with a single deep breath. 

Peter's fingers dug into the large, soft belly beneath him as he mouthed at Steve's tits. "You're getting huge, baby," Peter said breathlessly. "You goin' to keep getting bigger and softer for me?" 

Steve's mild hum of agreement lifted into a squeal as Peter's teeth clenched around half of his right breast. "Ooh!" He could feel his clit twitch where it was trapped in a tiny tube between the lard of this thighs. Peter wedged his hand behind him to flick at the plastic keeping Steve's dick tiny and even more useless. 

"You almost sound like a real piggy for me." Peter lifted his head to catch Steve's blush. "A sow, with these huge teats. How much would your nips chafe if you could manage to stuff yourself into your uniform?" 

Steve thought about putting his Cap suit on again and how his flesh would refuse to be contained. He envisioned himself bursting the fabric into shreds and leaving himself naked to everyone's stares. People would be so horrified to see how Captain America had let himself go, how he had bulged and softened. He was pretty sure just the size of his ass now would make him completely ineffective at fighting. He imagined himself being surrounded and laughed at by STRIKE agents in the locker room. His thoughts turned him on more. 

"I wouldn't fit into it. I'm too big now, too fat," Steve panted. Peter propped his head on his hands to look at him and listen; he loved how Steve's own imagination turned against him and how his body would ramp up with lust at envisioning more humiliation. "Everyone would laugh." 

"Only the stupid ones would laugh. Anyone with any sense would be able to see that your soft bitch body is meant to take cock. Would any of the men push you down to your knees? How many of them would it take to hold you down until you give in and just beg for their cum?" 

Steve's eyes glistened with the thrill of that suggested scenario. "...It wouldn't take many," he admitted quietly. 

"You'll just roll on your back and beg for it the moment you see a cock," Peter added. "After all, it's not like you have much of a real one." He licked some of the sweat from Steve's burgeoning double chin. "How long have I kept your bitch-clitty locked up?" 

"Almost two days," Steve stuttered. 

"I bet it's getting smaller every hour," Peter murmured. "I swear that your balls have gotten bigger. Just like your tits and ass. Everything but your little dick is getting huge and fat. What do you think about that, Steve?" 

Steve groaned. "You know I love it. You control my body and my mind. All I think about is looking and feeling good for you." 

"What did you do today while I was at work?" Peter moved back and started massaging Steve's balls. 

Steve rolled his head back and clenched his eyes shut. The cock cage seemed to keep the pleasure in the rest of his body, the intense waves of sensation making his limbs tremble. "I weighed myself. I'm almost at three-hundred. It made me horny so I used a vibrator, but that didn't help too much. I don't have any clothing that fits anymore, so I ordered some and had to wrap myself up in a blanket to answer the door and get the package from Dale when he brought it up." 

Peter's eyes gleamed. "Do you think Dale knows that you got too big for your clothes?" 

Steve had seen the doorman eye him in distaste as he opened the door wide enough to get the box from him. "He knows. He thinks it's gross," Steve said. 

Peter started to finger Steve's asshole. "I don't think you're gross. Do you?" 

Steve squirmed. "Sometimes. Not a lot." 

Peter worked him open until four fingers were pushing in and out of his hole. "You aren't. You're voluptuous. Everything is round and soft. There's no gross flabby bits. And you could still break Dale's neck in two seconds." 

Peter stood up to unbound Steve's ankles and indicate him to roll over, Steve felt dizzy with arousal and a bit of fear. "I'm not sure I could anymore. It's been awhile." 

"Do you miss it? Being in shape and fighting and killing?" 

"No," Steve answered easily. "But I worry about something happening and that I won't be able to save you or myself. And sometimes I get scared of how quickly I can push myself to my physical limits. Getting in and out of bed is starting to make me breathe hard; I would've been able to run up and down the stairs of this building three times before I started to lose my breath before." 

Peter started lightly slapping his ass cheeks. Steve could feel the jiggling of his butt roll down into his thighs. "Baby, you know who I am. You don't need to protect me." He stopped slapping and dug his fingers into Steve's flesh and began to knead. "Your bubble butt is amazing. So what did you do after you got the package?" 

"Drank some milk with that powder in it. I wasn't really hungry after you came three times this morning, but I knew I should at least drink something." 

"You're practically on a liquid diet now. Maybe I should keep you tied to this bed and feed you weight gain shakes and my jizz through a funnel and tube." 

"No," Steve said emphatically. "I would miss your cock so much!" 

"Mmm, yeah, honey. I couldn't deny us both." Peter stepped off the bed and started to lube up his dick. "After you had something to drink?" 

"I was horny and tried watching some porn. But I couldn't come with the cage on. I know I won't, but I keep trying." 

"Poor baby, that cage keeps you so frustrated," Peter said with fake sympathy. 

Steve frowned. "I still watched about 45 minutes of fetish porn before I could get myself to turn it off." 

"You're addicted to it, Steve, and you can't reach satisfaction when I'm the only one who knows where the key is to free your little clitty." 

"What would the team think if they knew I was like this?" Steve buried his head in the pillow. 

Peter rubbed the head of his dick. "Slide back, babe, I need you on your knees." 

Steve did as he was told and was rewarded by Peter's cock pushing into him. "Fuck," he gasped. He loved the way he felt stretched around Peter's huge dick. Like a puppet, he was missing a sense of being alive if he was empty. His balls ached and his lips and nips tingled as his partner rammed in and out. 

Eventually Peter said, "Your team already knows you're a fat slut obsessed with getting cock 24/7. Tony saw the screen when I was rewatching that clip we made of you showing off that baby blue crotchless teddy. I'm pretty sure he could hear you begging for my dick; I thought I was alone at my desk and didn't have my ear buds in." 

"Oh, fuck!" Steve gasped. He knew what clip Peter was talking about. About two weeks ago they had found an online Avengers themed lingerie shop. Peter had ordered a mesh Captain America teddy which had small white stars to cover the nipples and a tiny red ruffle of a skirt over the open crotch. Steve had showed it off before getting on his hands and knees and letting Pete record as he fucked himself open on a Spider-Man dildo. Peter had mocked him for begging for "the real thing." The thought of Tony watching any part of that made his body light up with shame and perverse excitement. 

"You wanna know what he said?" Peter continued. "He said he liked your tits. Can you believe it?" 

He seemed to want an answer, so Steve managed to grunt out a negative between the strong thrusts. 

"I said I would check with you and see if you'd let him fuck your tits when they get big enough. Would you, Steve? Do you want Tony Stark's dick between your moobs and help to get him off until he comes on your face?" 

"Yes," he said breathlessly, though he really wasn't sure if Peter was being serious. As a fantasy, Steve found it hot, but he didn't know if he could do it in real life. 

As always, he could feel when Peter came, no matter that it seemed as if the head of his dick was tucked into the bottom of his ribcage. Steve whined, but he knew he wasn't reaching a true climax with his clit locked up.


	6. P/S, chastity, feminization, verbal humiliation

They were curled up on the couch eating street tacos for dinner when Peter brought up the topic of his cum. 

"So we got the equipment in yesterday that I ordered. I got it for something else I'm working on, but was able to sneak in a little side project. I hadn't been able to determine what kind of hormones my cum is giving you. I had the idea that you've been getting some high doses of female hormones," Peter squeezed one of Steve's breasts as an illustration, "but was unable to prove it. I did today. Apparently I am optimized to make female sexual partners extremely fertile." 

Steve sat up with a sudden worry. "But I can't get pregnant, right?" 

Peter laughed. "No, of course not. Unless you've got some ovaries and a womb inside ya that you haven't told me about. But it should be giving you some side effects." 

Steve bit his lip. "Side effects?" 

"Nothing a slut like you wouldn't enjoy. Your clit and balls might get smaller, your boobs bigger. But you might start lactating." 

"Lact-" Steve began, but trailed off as he realized what that meant. "Milk?!" 

"Wouldn't you be happy being my little milk cow, Stevie?" Peter cooed in a teasing voice. "Your titties leaking milk when you're webbed to the bed and you having to beg me to empty you out?" 

Steve's dick twitched in its tiny cage. Peter noticed and chuckled. 

"We should put a pretty little bell on it." He flicked the plastic covering Steve's shaft. 

Peter did get a bell for it. The next day he brought home a small bell and attached it to Steve's caged dick with a zip tie. He slapped Steve's ass as he got up from his knees and enjoyed the pink blush covering Steve's face and creeping down his chest. "Walk. I wanna see it if jingles." 

Steve walked, and it did jingle. Much more loudly than he had expected the small thing could. He kept his eyes on the ground as he walked back toward Peter, only glancing up to get brief looks at his lover's delighted leer. 

"Ooh, I like that. Bend over the table, baby, I wanna help you make it ring." 

The bell tinkled continuously as he fucked Steve from behind. They were both excited by the humiliation of it. Steve gripped the far edge tightly as Peter's monster cock rammed in and out, making the bell ring merrily at every movement of Steve's hips. His moobs and stomach were mashed against the tabletop, and he drooled as his eyes rolled in ecstasy. 

"I'm sending you down to the bodega today," Peter said as they fucked. "Put you in your loosest sweatpants with no underwear. You're gonna walk down the street and people will hear the jingling, but they won't have any idea it's coming from your locked-up little bitch clitty." 

Steve gasped as lust stabbed him low in his stomach. "You can't," he protested quietly. "They'll figure out where it's coming from!" 

Peter's fingers dug cruelly into Steve's love handles. "You think anyone's going to kneel down under your big belly to make sure? No one takes a second glance at you, big guy." 

Tears filled up Steve's vision. It was true; the few times he went out with Peter, no one had recognized him as Captain America. People's gazes passed over him quickly, or lingered on his bulging gut with revulsion. It was embarrassing, but also liberating. 

Peter thrust in a final time and came. Steve knew each load of cum he took pushed him farther down the path to obesity, but he was addicted. Even if he couldn't physically ejaculate with his dick caged up, he basked, love-drunk, in hormones and pleasure chemicals. Peter nuzzled his face into Steve's spine, giving him sucking kisses as he came down from his orgasm. "I love you so much, Steve." 

Steve's body felt like it was losing something whenever Peter pulled his cock out.


	7. P/S, T/S, male lactation, exhibitionism, humiliation, I dunno- this chapter got long and I stopped keeping track

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve retires from the Avengers and has an accident that draws Tony into the couple's erotic games.

"You ready to tell everyone why you're here, Steve?" 

Steve took a deep breath as Hill's comment directed the team's attention to him. He was just a bit nervous, and sweating heavily under his clothes, but none of the gazes he was getting were hostile. "I would like to formally quit the Avengers. I don't want to do the fighting and espionage anymore. I have other things that are bringing me happiness, and am ready to retire from being Captain America and start being just Steve Rogers again. With the rising population of inhumans and declared extraterrestrial beings with superhuman abilities, the Avengers should have their pick of people who have the drive and desire to do what we have been doing. I would like to remain as friends, of course, but only in a non-professional capacity." 

There was a silence before Hill said, "Thanks, Steve. Anyone have objections or questions?" 

Steve wove his fingers together fretfully in his lap. He had worried about this. 

"Did the serum stop working?" Of course it was Tony who mentioned the elephant in the room. Steve had been able to hide or smooth out most of his added weight with compression gear, but there was no way to hide the rounding of his face or the extra flesh under his chin. 

"Some of the super soldier perks have stopped being as effective," Steve replied, not adding _against the power of Peter's cum_ aloud. "My health is still good, but my metabolism has not been able to keep up with my nutritional requirements, so you can see I have gained some weight and have also lost a lot of flexibility and speed. I won't be very good in a fight, now, even if I wanted to jump back into the thick of things." 

"Peter hasn't influenced you into this decision?" Natasha asked. 

Steve was sure his irrepressible smile and and blush screamed to everyone how besotted he still was with his partner. "He supports my decision, and has been suggesting a lot of things I might start trying to do, like going to classes or trying to become a professional artist. I still haven't decided, but I plan on trying a few different things out." Peter honestly was being supportive- bringing home college brochures or offering to by whatever supplies Steve needed to set himself up as an artist. Of course, during sex his suggestions were a little more lewd; Steve was absolutely not going into the online porn business no matter how much money Pete thought he could make. 

"So, no objections. This meeting is done. Steve, thank you so much for your service and good luck with whatever you decide to do," Maria said, shaking Steve's hand as everyone stood up. Steve smiled at her and said the expected things with real gratitude. 

After talking to every other team member, Steve was left alone in the conference room with Stark. The man had been eyeing him in a way that made Steve nervous. He really had no idea whether Pete had told him the truth that Tony had seen that video of him, or if Tony had any idea about the kinky stuff the two of them were involved in. 

Tony came around the table, his gaze steadily meeting Steve's as he circled closer like a shark about to attack. "So you know your boyfriend has some... physical quirks, right?" 

Steve relaxed a bit and nodded. He could feel sweat collecting under his pecs, and rubbed his chest a bit to try to disperse the dampness. "I know that he has unique talents and skills and that you are mentoring him in more than engineering and programming." He was a bit too wary of Fury's history of surveillance to mention that Peter was Spider-Man out loud. 

Tony nodded. "He's been a lot less flaky and distracted since you've gotten together. I kind of miss that," he made a vague movement with one hand, "erratic and nervous energy. But I suppose you are a good influence on him." 

"Thanks?" Steve said uncertainly. He had a feeling Stark was working up to something. 

"You should mention to Peter that I do know everything that goes on in his lab." Tony sidled up to Steve and put an arm over his shoulders. It was uncomfortable with the few inches of difference in their heights, but Steve bent his knees a bit to let Tony do it. 

The uneasy feeling in Steve's chest was getting bigger. "Okay. But I don't know what kind of secrets you think I know about his work. I'm not aware that he's trying to hide anything from you." 

"It means that I can see the results of everything he's working on. Even if it's a... personal project he is using company equipment to run after hours." 

Steve understood. That machine or whatever that Peter had used to determine what hormones he was giving Steve. Stark knew the results of that test. He felt his body lock up in apprehension. 

Tony gave him a couple light slaps on a shoulder. "His tests have gotten some interesting results. I had to do some research into biology to understand them myself, but I hope that he hasn't been keeping anything from you." 

"I don't think he has. He has told me there are risks to... being with him." Steve admitted this quietly, glad that Tony's proximity was close enough that there conversation wasn't likely to be picked up by bugs. 

"Risks?" Tony said, raising his eyebrows. "I would say there is evidence that they are certainties." He tapped Steve on the chest in a deliberate way and Steve looked down. There were two small patches of dampness that had seeped through his shirts. 

"Fuck," Steve breathed. It hadn't been sweat. He had started lactating, right in the middle of the meeting! Mortification swept through him even as he felt his dick twitch in its cage. 

"How many layers are you wearing? How much did it have to soak through?" Tony's pupils were big and round, and his breathing had sped up. Steve could tell he was turned on. That fed into both his arousal and embarrassment. 

Steve couldn't think. He fumbled to pull out his phone. 

"There is a restroom right around the corner," Tony said, and began to lead him to the door. In a daze, Steve just went with him, slumping against a wall once they were safely in the empty men's room. Figuring he didn't have anything left to hide about the fact that he was lactating, Steve called Peter. 

"Hey babe. What's up?" 

"Pete. It happened." Steve squeezed his eyes closed. "They started..." 

"What happened? Steve?" Peter sounded like he was beginning to worry. 

Steve opened his eyes when the phone was taken from his hand. "Your boyfriend started lactating." 

"Mr. Stark?" Peter said in surprise. "What are you doing there? Steve, where are you?" 

"We just had our meeting. Steve only started leaking through his shirt afterward, when it was just us left." Tony put a palm on Steve's forehead. "He's looking a little pale. Shock?" Steve shook his head. 

"I'm on my way." 

"We're in the men's room. What do you want me do with him? He seems kinda out of it." 

Steve could hear Peter's dark chuckle from the speaker. "He's probably horny as fuck. Get him out of those shirts." 

Tony looked surprised, but Steve just began pulling off his T-shirt then compression Under Armour then the very damp blue minimizer bra he had worn underneath. His tit flesh rolled out, and his wet nipples hit the air with a chill. Tony looked stunned, frozen in place with his mouth hanging open. This galvanized Steve into feeling a spike of smugness at Tony's reaction. 

"You said you knew the results," Steve reminded him. 

Stark blinked and open and shut his mouth a couple times. "Theoretical and empirical knowledge are two different things," he managed to say, the words coming out slightly hoarse. Unlike Steve's locked-up dick, Tony's cock had nothing keeping it from letting the world know how it felt; there was definite tenting going on in his slacks, and that knowledge emboldened Steve. He felt safe knowing Peter was coming and that Tony wasn't disgusted about the changes to his body. Steve cupped his tits with his hands and rubbed this thumbs over the protruding nipples. They had grown a lot bigger with the devices and hormones Steve had been using in the last several months. At some level, the fact that his nipples were producing milk was freaking him out, but Steve focused on Tony's reaction and it ramped up his own arousal. 

"Steve, you fucking exhibitionist slut." There was Peter, closing the door behind him and grinning with delight and a touch of perverse satisfaction. Hearing the approval in his boyfriend's voice, Steve tilted his head back and massaged his moobs more vigorously, parting his legs and moaning with pleasure. 

"I should go," Tony actually stuttered and stumbled as he turned to get away. Peter stopped him by grabbing his arm. 

"Nah, you want to stay. Steve wants you to stay, right baby?" 

Steve cracked his eyes open and met Tony's gaze and licked his lips. "Uh-huh." 

"Consent-" Tony sputtered, but his brain seemed to shut down whatever thought he was having. 

"I didn't know you actually wanted anyone to see you like this," Peter said to Steve. "Jesus, so you really were into the idea of Tony titty-fucking you. If you want it, you gotta push your pants down and get on your knees." 

Not so lost in lust, Steve quickly weighed the likelihood of Tony being disgusted and running off to tell everyone what a sexual deviant Steve Rogers was. Judging by Tony's glazed expression, it wasn't likely. So he unbuttoned his new jeans and pushed them down his thighs, following those with the Spanx shorts and the shiny seamless blue briefs. He could hear Tony's gasp echo around the tiled room. 

"Hey," Peter said, his voice chocolately dark and smooth, "Show Tony how you make your bell tinkle." 

Steve could feel his face flare up with a blush. Peter had insisted that he learn to twerk from several YouTube video tutorials. Instead of turning his ass to the other men, he let them watch the tiny bell swing back and forth from his locked-up clitty. Steve could feel milk continue to dribble from his nipples and run down his naked chest and over the swell of his belly. 

Tony had to grab his dick as he watched. His eyes were huge. He had never fantasized anything so fucked-up as a naked, chubby, big-titted Captain America wearing a chastity device dancing. It was glorious in the most kinky way. 

"I can't believe he fits in that thing," Is all Tony can say. The chastity device looked tiny; half-hidden under a roll of belly fat, Steve's dick looked shorter than a thumb. 

"The serum didn't super-size his dick," Peter said smugly. "And the amount of my jizz he's been swallowing down and the cage is making it even smaller. I've had his clit locked up for two full months; who knows how small it is now. But that doesn't matter does it, sweetcheeks?" Peter patted Steve's cheek gently. "He doesn't need that cock, he only needs mine." 

"Yes," Steve said. He fell to his knees and started nosing at the bulge in Peter's jeans. "I'm starving, Daddy. Please feed me?" 

Tony's gaze kept flicking from his small, lean intern to the large naked man begging for his dick and calling him "daddy." It was hard to understand; he had thought that Peter had been a twink who maybe manipulated Steve into being wrapped around his little finger, not that he was calling all the shots. 

Peter smirked at Tony. "Stevie's on a liquid diet and hasn't got any sustenance since before I left for work. You're welcome to leave, watch, or join in. Steve would love to be used as your cum dumpster." 

Tony found himself transfixed when he saw Peter unleash what practically looked like a snake from his briefs and watched Steve devour the thing with fervent adoration. The pipe slid down Steve's throat and bulged through his neck; when his intern came, Tony could see it twitch as it released what looked like liters of cum. Steve swallowed it all with a rapt expression, and the load made his tummy seem to pudge out a bit more. 

Peter stepped back before bending down and spreading Steve's milk over his chest until it glistened. "Lay back on the floor. Push your tits together for Mr. Stark to fuck into." 

Steve immediately did as he was told. Peter moved aside and gestured for Tony to get closer. "Straddle him for the best leverage," he advised. 

After removing his shoes, slacks and underwear Tony followed his intern's advice, slotting his knees on either side of Steve's rib cage. The space between Steve Rogers' breasts was warm and slick with fluid. Steve pushed his chest mounds together firmly to create a pliable tunnel for Tony's dick. 

It didn't take many thrusts for Tony to come, as turned on as he had been for so long. Seeing pulses of his cum land on Steve's cheeks and open, panting mouth was a dream come true. Steve moaned like a pornstar the whole time and tried to lap up every drop with his tongue. 

"Jesus, Steve," Peter said. Tony turned to see the boy was holding his firm monster cock and envied Peter's stamina and refractory time. "You remember the reward I promised you for when you started milking?" Steve nodded and excitement lit up his face. "You want Mr. Stark to see you take that reward?" 

"What's the reward?" Tony asked, his interested piqued. 

Peter nodded to Steve so both he and Tony turned their attention back to the man laying prone in the tile floor. 

"I get to come," Steve said wistfully, "on your giant dick." 

"Get yourself ready," Peter said. He chivalrously gave Tony a hand to help balance him as his knees unkinked while he stood. When Tony looked back at Steve, the big blond was working a dildo out of his ass. The thing kept coming, looking like at least 40 centimeters of flexible flesh-colored silicone. 

Steve dropped it in a coil in the closest sink basin and turned. Peter had retrieved a small key from his wallet and knelt in front of him to unlock the cock cage. Steve's dicklet was short, almost just the head of a penis nestled against his hairless testicles. 

Peter cooed and gently flicked at the slit. "Look at that tiny little baby dick! Wait, you can't see it over your belly, can you?" 

Steve trembled in pleasure and humiliation. "No, I can't. How small is it?" 

Peter prodded him to turn around. The mirror was low enough that by taking only a couple steeps backward Steve could see most of himself. He gasped when he saw the little nub barely able to peek out from his overhang of fat. 

Tony was stuck dumb as he watched Peter press himself against Steve's back and lean to the side to examine their reflection. "You couldn't fuck anybody with that tiny button of a clitty, could you?" 

"No," Steve sobbed out. He was tall and wide, with his curvaceous thighs and rounded ass and floppy moobs. All that body mass made the small size of his genitals much more of a contrast. He was crying, his face all pink up to his burning red ears. His eyes and his nips leaked fluid and he couldn't stop either flow. 

"It's so much smaller than when we first met! Can you believe it?" 

Steve cried. "Oh, Daddy." 

"Do you like it? Like having such a tender, soft, girly little bitch-clit, baby?" 

"Yes!" Steve wailed, his legs seeming to give out as he slumped back onto his lover. "I can't fuck anybody with my clit. It's too small. I'm not-" his voice broke. Tony tensed, unsure if the large man was going to flip his shit. What Steve said instead was, "I'm just a fat slutty cumdump," in a nearly breathless voice. 

"Touch your clitty," Peter cooed. Steve followed instructions. He didn't know how to touch it now that there wasn't enough shaft to get his fingers around. He clumsily stroked at the sensitive glans, his eyes wide as he watched his fumbling in the mirror. 

It was a surprise to both Tony and Steve when Peter rammed his cock against his boyfriend's hole. Automatically, Steve leaned forward to brace his hands on the sink and spread his legs. Peter practically climbed onto his larger lover to stuff his dick inside him. 

"Who's my... tiny-dicked... big-tittied... fat ass... slutty cocksleeve?" Peter grunted between superpowered thrusts. 

Steve moaned when he came, releasing a small spurt of cum that dribbled down the head of his penis and balls.


	8. P/S, exhibitionism, fucking machine, enema, tickling, overstimulation, sex toys, D/S, humiliation

To Peter, there was hardly anything he could imagine that was more erotic than than a naked Steve writhing with overstimulation. A web sling attached to the ceiling cradled his gut but left his tits and genitals dangling in the air. High-heeled boots kept his ass propped up while a vibrator buzzed in his slick hole, and his balls were pulled tight and glowed pink while his two-inch clitty dripped fluid into an Avengers-themed mug sitting on a towel below him. His nipples were clamped into milking tubes. 

Steve moaned and wailed as the toys worked on him, causing him to occasionally go weak in the knees and lose his footing. His tiny dick humped uselessly in the air. His face was dripping with tears and snot. It had been almost 15 minutes of erotic torture this morning. 

Peter bent over to stroke Steve's face, pushing the hair out of his eyes and wiping his cheeks and chin. "Too much yet, babe?" 

Steve looked up at him with beseeching blue eyes. His lashes were clumped with moisture. "Hurts so good. Five more minutes?" 

"How 'bout until I get you off one more time? You got one more orgasm for me in your slutty baby dick?" After Steve nodded, Peter moved to Steve's ass, slapping it a few times to watch him jiggle, before he started working the vibrator deeper against his prostate. "Aim for the mug," he warned, and Steve managed to get most of a paltry stream of come into the cup. 

Peter pulled out the vibrator then the milking pumps, letting Steve sag and put all of his considerable weight onto the sling while he removed the heeled boots. Peter got him out of the web and they cuddled on the floor next to the damp towel. 

After awhile, when Steve seemed to recover his senses, Peter said, "Mr. Stark has some ideas. We both like how come-dumb you get after being worked over for a long time. He thinks he can build something, moving cuffs to hold you up and automatically position you, some sensory elements, automatic fucking and sucking devices and stuff. He likes the thought of locking you into a machine that will pleasure you continuously until you become a drooling, oversensitive, speechless mess." 

"That's interesting," Steve said, carefully. Peter's dick had stiffened as he talked, so he knew his lover liked the idea. Steve liked the idea in theory, but wasn't sure about the possibility of being left alone. At the moment, though, he was much more interested in getting his mouth on Pete's dick. 

"Just think about it," Peter said, as Steve buried his head into his lap. 

* * *

Off of one of Tony's private workshops was a small room paneled with one-way mirrors. In the middle of the room was a chair and nothing else. 

Steve had been told what it would do, in vague terms. He hadn't pressed for details, wanting most of it to be a surprise. 

There was a wireless electrode glued to his neck. Except for that, he was naked. 

"Come on, baby," Peter cooed from behind him, impelling them through the doorway of the room. "Sit down. I promise we won't start anything without your permission." 

Steve eyed the chair that emerged from the floor. He could tell that it was designed in sections that could be moved. Tony had admitted as much. Even besides that, it didn't look like an ordinary chair. There was a pedestal base, a seat and a back upholstered with some padded vinyl, two arms, and two attached parts for his feet. The seat was wide enough for his huge ass to fit comfortably. 

Steve sat in it with Peter's constant coaxing. He wasn't really scared, just... apprehensive. 

"Remember that JARVIS is monitoring your vital signs. If you start to panic, everything will stop immediately, I promise," Peter said, lovingly squeezing Steve's hands. 

"Alright." Tony's voice came from a small speaker even though he was just on the other side of a mirror. "Should we start with your teats, Steve? They're looking a little full." 

Steve gripped Peter's fingers and nodded. The chair reclined back a bit and two milking tubes came from a hatch in the ceiling, identical to the ones they had in their apartment. Peter took his hands away to attach them to Steve's nipples. Immediately they began their familiar pumping sensations and Steve couldn't bite back a small groan of relief. 

"Feel a little bit better about this?" Peter asked, looking at Steve's hardening penis before walking around to kiss Steve's forehead. "Next we're gonna put something on your bitch-clit to really make you feel nice. Ready?" 

At Steve's nod, Peter pulled something from the chair under Steve, a narrow hose with a larger cylinder and some straps. The cylinder went on Steve's penis, and things were gently but securely fastened around his balls and the tops of his thighs. "Let's give that one a try." 

Less than a second later, there was exquisite pressure on Steve's stubby little cock. He gasped and pushed back into the chair, fingers digging into the padded ends of the arms. 

"Hey, Mikey, I think he likes it!" Tony said. 

"Neither of us get that reference, Mr. Stark," Peter said, meeting Steve's gaze and sharing an eyeroll. 

"I spent hours modifying that sleeve to work with Steve's tiny dick, and that's the type of gratitude I get?" Tony fake-griped. "All his stats are looking good from here. How's he looking from there, Pete?" 

Peter bent over to get a good look at Steve's face. "Eyes are glazing over and he's starting to sweat, boss. Let's try the anal stimulator." 

"Would you strap him in, first?" Tony asked. Peter followed instructions, wrapping soft Velcro straps around Steve's soft flesh to attach him to the chair. "The chair's going to spread your legs," Tony warned. 

Part of the seat dropped away, and Steve was left supported by his upper body as the mechanical pieces holding his legs pulled them up and apart. His ass felt fully exposed, and soon he felt Peter fingering some lube into his asshole before inserting something into it. 

"Now this can do a lot of things," Peter said, pushing the unseen device in and _in._ "It can, of course, fuck you as well as vibrate. It can also squirt lube if it's needed, or fill you up with water to clean you out. That's why it's so thick." 

Steve wasn't really listening anymore. Once the chair had stopped moving, his focus had returned to his nips and clit. 

Peter returned to his field of vision and held his face tenderly. "Check in. How you doing?" 

It took Steve a moment to process the question and come up with an answer. "'S good." 

Peter's laugh was a bit on the mean side, but lost in a haze of endorphins Steve didn't care. "One more thing before you're all hooked up." He held up a large red object connected to the ceiling by a tube. "This is moulded to be the same shape and size as my cock, so I know you can swallow all of it. It can keep you hydrated as long as you want to stay here. Okay?" 

Steve nodded, eying it greedily. Unfortunately, Peter insisted on putting a thin oxygen tube down his nose first, so he wouldn't suffocate himself on silicone. He easily took it all, though it lacked the aliveness of Peter's cock. When he pressed it hard between his tongue and the roof of his mouth he could feel something cool and liquid tickling down inside of him. 

As Peter stepped away, all the devices ramped up their intensity. Steve's throat vibrated around the fake cock as he tried to moan as his tits, pussy, and clit were all assaulted with stimulation. He closed his eyes, focus drawn entirely to what was happening with his body. 

"Oh, yeah," Peter said, with great satisfaction. "He's already in his headspace." 

"Everything is green," Tony added. "I'm gonna start adding a bit of variation." 

Steve cracked his eyes open as the tube on his dick stopped its action, but was quickly distracted when the vibrator in his ass seemed to squirt something cold deep into him before targeting his prostate. He tried to squirm, but couldn't move anything much beyond his fingers and toes. His head was free to move, but that made the things down his throat pull uncomfortably. 

As he got into the deep stimulation of his ass, mechanical arms hinged down from the ceiling bearing fluffy little ends that started tickling him. Steve could only watch himself in the mirrored walls, a huge pale blob of a person writhing and jiggling as he was tickle tortured in his restraints. 

He hadn't ever given erotic tickling a second thought, but being helpless like this seemed like any sensation assaulting him would keep ramping up his arousal. 

The cylinder on his dick shuddered back to life, the vibrations stiffening him to a full erection in less than a minute. As he was tickled Steve came explosively, moaning around the phallus filling his throat. The device on his penis didn't stop, it kept working at his oversensitive flesh until Steve felt tears dripping from his eyes. 

The tickling finally stopped and the milking tubes lost their vacuum and fell off his abused nipples and everything was pulled back into the ceiling, leaving Steve still strapped to the chair with his mouth, ass, and clit still being mechanically worked over. 

As his post-orgasm sensitivity decreased, the stimulation just became a background sensation of pleasure again. Steve let his eyes close and his mind drift for an unknown length of time. 

"He's really been sucking down a lot of water," Stark told Peter outside the room. He pointed to a digital chart showing the depleted contents of the reservoir that was connected to the dildo in Steve's mouth. "I doubt he realizes how much he's drank." 

Peter grinned. "Can you put some water sounds on the speakers? Just low enough that he won't consciously realize what he's hearing?" 

Stark looked at Peter for a moment. "Deviant little pervert," he said admiringly, before he turned back to his computer. 

Peter entered the room a while later and stroked Steve's sweaty hair off of his forehead. "Hey baby, how ya doin'?" 

Steve opened his eyes and smiled as much as he could around his mouthful of silicone. 

"You're looking pretty dopey. Maybe some cold water will wake you up a bit." 

Right after he said that, a stream of cold water gushed into Steve's bowels through the device in his ass. Steve squealed in shock, but the water kept flowing as he squirmed uselessly against the straps holding him in place. 

"You've been in here for a few hours" Peter said. "Bet your bladder is pretty full." 

Steve narrowed his eyes. He had specifically said that he wasn't into trying watersports. 

Peter seemed to read his mind. "You're not going to piss all over yourself. There's a tube that has been sucking up all your cum. It'll handle urine, too. I'm just letting you know you have the option. 

The water had stopped spraying into Steve, but the collection of chilly liquid was a sense Steve couldn't ignore. It was warming up, but he shivered around the intrusion. He felt bloated. It was humiliating and uncomfortable. 

"Mr. Stark! Make sure Steve's bitch-clitty doesn't get hard, please." The cylinder around Steve's dick tightened. 

"You're embarrassed, but we're not letting your slutty little clit get hard to stop this from happening," Peter crooned into Steve's ear. "You're going to stay here until you piss." 

Steve started to think about this rationally. He was opposed to the idea of pissplay because he didn't like the smell or the mess. What would be the harm in just letting go? 

Peter let him think for a few moments before he stepped back. "Let's see what other positions this chair can put you into." 

It turned out the variations of movement of the chair's mechanical parts was virtually endless. The straps kept Steve in place as his legs were spread wide, he was tipped ass-up, his thighs were pushed up until they rubbed against the skin of his belly- but thankfully, throughout testing all the chair's permutations, Tony and Peter paid careful attention to the hoses attached to his mouth, dick, and ass. 

They left Steve facing down, the weight of his full gut and the enema pushing his belly down uncomfortably. He couldn't move in any way to alleviate the discomfort of the water inside him. 

"Let's bring out the ticklers again," Tony suggested. 

Steve's grunts and squirms let them know he didn't like the idea, but the arms folded down and delicately attacked Steve's most tender areas. Peter requested a pause, and he removed the dildo from Steve's mouth. "I wanna hear what you sound like when he can't hold back anymore." 

When the tickling resumed, Steve couldn't hold back his cursing. "Fuck you both!" 

"Language, Cap!" Tony said from outside, his usual fake admonishment. 

Peter just laughed one of his mean chuckles and slapped his ass. "That's not your safeword, sweetcheeks. Stop being stubborn. Let us watch you lose control." 

Steve couldn't stop the laughter the tickling was causing. He held back his urine, but couldn't do anything when his milk started flowing again. 

"Pete," Tony said, as the milking tubes came down again. 

"Yup," Peter acknowledged, attaching them to Steve's teats. Steve thrashed uselessly as the stimulation on his nips was joined by the plug in his butt prodding relentlessly at his prostate. His dick couldn't get hard, but the deep ass-pounding he was getting made him aware of the sloshing in his gut. 

Steve's control on his body and bladder were worn thin by the assault on his senses. He finally pissed, sobbing out as he was tickled and mechanically milked and fucked. It was humiliating, being so out of control of his own body- no matter that it was Peter and Tony doing this to him for everyone's perverse satisfaction. 

The chair righted itself almost into the configuration it had started in. Peter stroked his head and face as Steve kept his eyes closed and calmed himself down. Everything but the milking tubes had stopped playing with him. 

"When your milk stops, we'll unhook you," Peter said soothingly. "But we can take this one off now." He gently removed the tube from Steve's dick. 

The aftermath leaving the room was something Steve hadn't predicted. The enema had drained from his body via the tube, but having something so big in his ass for so long had tired his anal muscles. After a long argument, Steve finally conceded to wearing an adult diaper for the time it took to get from Tony's workshop back up to his and Peter's reinstated apartment in the building. The size of the diaper was huge; just looking at it before it was put on him had his face and ears burning. When it was put in place around his ass and hips and he saw himself in the reflective walls, he nearly fell to his knees to try to hide himself in shame. Both Peter and Tony kindly managed to not make any comments about how he looked like a large chubby baby as he waddled out of the room to be wrapped up in a huge, fluffy robe. 

As he and Peter stood silently in the elevator, Steve was wearily glad that he had the protection; he could occasionally feel lube and water drip out of his gaping hole.


	9. P/S, T/S, exhIbitionism, milking, anal and oral sex, humiliation, begging, overstimulation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All I really want is a fictional fat Steve humiliated as he moos and is milked like a cow. Is that really so wrong?

Steve loved the chair. If Tony and Peter had a meeting, they would sit him down and hook him up and have JARVIS babysit him. After several hours, Peter would visit and coddle him and take his turn to fuck or suck Steve. 

This time they had been gone for 3 hours and 43 minutes. Steve was exhausted and starving. 

"JARVIS, please turn everything off. I need a break." 

"Sorry, my instructions for today prevent me from following that order." 

Steve didn't let himself worry yet. "Why?" 

"Sir and Mr. Parker commanded me to continue stimulating you with no breaks, even to the point of you losing consciousness." 

Steve felt anger start to build up behind his fog of weariness. "Isn't there an override?" 

"Only if your vitals go into the red," the AI said apologetically. Steve decided it wasn't worth working himself into a panic yet. They shouldn't be gone for too much longer. He asked JARVIS to lower down the dildo for his mouth; at least he could prevent himself from dehydrating. It was easy to take only as much of the phallus as he wanted to with his hands left unstrapped. 

At the 8 hour mark, Steve had just grayed out from his last climax. The dildo had fallen from his lax mouth and lay on his chest. "JARVIS, please stop everything!" He begged. 

Again, JARVIS' tone was apologetic. "Sir has been monitoring your status for the last twenty minutes. He refuses to permit me to change today's programming." 

"Stark!" Steve yelled. Instead of a direct answer, he heard a recording: 

_"How long do you want the program to run?" Tony asked._

_"Steve's a slut," Peter replied. "He can take it as long as we need him to."_

To hear his lover verbally debasing him so casually turned Steve on. The fucking machine in his ass squirted more lube and began to ram into him harder. 

"Uhh," Steve mumbled, Peter's words replaying over and over in his head. 

_"Steve's a slut. Steve's a slut. Steve's a slut. Steve's a slut."_

"I'm a slut," Steve repeated, trying to push his ass back into the fucking he was getting. "I'm a _slut._ " 

When Tony and Peter came into the room off the workshop, they found Steve collapses listlessly in the chair, drooling and grinning mindlessly. 

"How are you?" Peter asked, grabbing as much of Steve's titflesh as he could around the milking pump. 

"Imma slut," Steve mumbled. 

"Completely fucked out," Stark agreed, beginning to loop and lock the loose straps around Steve's body. "J, put him into configuration 3." The chair's segments shifted, the seat and back of the chair nestling side-by-side in front of Steve's gut, and the leg braces moving to the fronts of his shins. In seconds, Steve was in a kneeling position, ass up at a perfect height for getting fucked. 

Peter made a polite "after you" gesture, and Stark pulled the anal probe out before quickly unzipping his trousers and sticking his cock into Steve's sloppy asshole. 

"He's so loose. JARVIS, do that little trick to tighten him up." 

Steve cried out wordlessly as a sharp pain seemed to explode in his balls. 

"There we go," Tony said in appreciation. 

Peter was taking his huge cock out in front of Steve's face. "Hungry, baby?" 

"Mmmm," Steve managed to rumble before opening his mouth. 

"Beg for it," Peter said. 

"Peee-eeete," Steve whined. "Wan' it. Hungry." 

"Call me daddy, Steve." 

"Daddy! Need your cum! Please!" 

"I don't know if I have any left. I watched you a lot today, and I jerked off several times." 

Steve was present enough that he blushed at the thought that Peter and Tony had been watching him. 

Peter crouched down and sat on his heels. "Tell me again how you're a slut, Steve." 

"I'm a slut, Daddy," Steve said, his bashfulness shoved aside by his craving for Peter's addictive cum. "I came so many times today, but I need your cock. Please, feed me your cum?" 

"You have one cock in your pussy and you're begging me to give you another one? You're being so greedy, Steve. Take care of Mr. Stark, first." Peter stood up, stepped back, and started masturbating himself in view but out of reach of his boyfriend. Steve squirmed and drooled as Stark railed him from behind, his eyes unable to focus on anything but Peter's cock. 

"Tell Mr. Stark to use you," Peter prompted. "Tell him what you are." 

"Cumdump!" Steve gasped, "I'm a cumdump! My mouth and cunt are for you to use." 

"And are you a fat cow with full udders?" Tony asked. 

"Yes!" Steve sobbed, drowning in the erotic bliss of being used and humiliated. "A fat cow! All I'm good for is getting milked and getting fucked." 

"Moo, you chubby bottom-bitch," Tony demanded. 

"Moo-ooo," Steve said. His face burned and tears were dripping over his round cheeks. His voice hitched on a sob. Tony slapped him on his fat ass and he felt like the entire bottom half of his body jiggled. "Moo! Moooooo!" Steve kept crying out as Tony demanded. 

Meanwhile Steve was being tortured by the sight and smell of Peter's monster dick just out of reach. His senses, still enhanced, were too strong for him to just try to turn away and forget that it was _right there_. His salivary glands were not hard-wired to his lover's rod and the ambrosia it provided, and the drool just slid down his chin and puddled on the floor. 

Steve could barely feel it when Tony came, his cunt too used to Peter's extreme length and girth. His former co-worker pulled out and Peter tugged up Steve's head by his hair and rammed himself into his face. The device on Steve's bitch-clit and nips were turned up all the way to 11 (literally, Tony had programmed an 11th max speed). The pumps went into overdrive and Steve's scream was muffled as his tender, overused flesh was worked by the implacable machines. 

For the second for third time that day he came dry. It was more pain than pleasure. Peter came then slid his cock from Steve's slack mouth. He tenderly wiped the tears and dribble from Steve's chubby face. "Put the chair back to position 1, please," he ordered and didn't know whether it was Mr. Stark or JARVIS who obeyed the command. He unplugged his boyfriend from the chair's umbilicals and let him sit there, prone and panting. 

Steve's small penis was red and raw. Thankfully, Mr. Stark had a cabinet with medical supplies in the shop that included some ointment for the tender skin. 

"Don't put that on his nipples," Mr. Stark warned, "It will taint his milk." 

Peter nodded. "Did you decide what to do with it?" 

"Ran a full chemical analysis. I don't think there would be any purpose for the entire mix, but we can centrifuge it and make two sera: one of normal breast milk and particulates, and another with all those crazy hormone chemicals you feed him. I have some guys who think the hormones might be good for infertility treatments, or increase the chances of success for IVF." 

Steve drowsed, letting the sounds of Tony and Peter's conversation float over his head. 

"Cool," Peter said, standing up. "He's making so much it would be a shame to not do anything with it." He took Steve's hands to pull him from the chair into a standing position. "No reason you can't help the world in a different way, right Steve?" 

Steve's mind woke up enough for him to fasten on to one word and repeat it. "...Help. Uh-huh." 

Tony laughed. "He is so out of it. God, I have never been that fucked out in all my years of trying." 

Leaving the room with Steve's arm draped over his shoulders, Peter snorted. "You're more than welcome to try out your machine for yourself." 

"No thanks," Mr. Stark said. "I'm still classified as a baseline human. No way I could handle that thing."


	10. P/S, BDSM, cockwarming, TPE, objectification, mentions of urination (not watersports), plushophilia, mentions of bestiality, dehumanization, sex toys, fisting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 12 hours of total power exchange. Steve has agreed to do what Peter says. (That's not unusual. But the toys Peter brings in to their play are.)

Steve was giving Peter 12 hours of total power exchange. It was going to be a great weekend. 

Pete woke up at six. Since retiring, Steve had grown used to sleeping in, so he left his lover sleeping in their bed for the moment. 

After using the toilet, Peter retrieved his newest toy and slipped back between the sheets. 

Steve obediently opened his eyes when Peter nudged him awake. 

"We're starting now. Remember?" Steve nodded, still sleepy but clearly aware that the 12 hours was starting now. He looked confused as Peter gently strapped a spider gag (they had finally stopped grinning whenever they saw it not too long ago) to him, then looked curious as he saw Peter's surprise acquisition already fastened around his hips. "We know you love keeping my cock warm, so you shouldn't have any objections to this making sure you'll do the job until I'm done," Peter said. Steve obligingly worked Peter's dick down his throat and let Peter hook the gag to the harness. 

Peter pretended that he was letting Steve sleep in, but kept rolling and repositioning himself in ways that meant Steve was kept awake and aware of his status as cocksleeve. He finally told Steve they were getting out of bed, and made him crawl awkwardly backwards as they went naked to the kitchen. 

Steve had to pliantly move around whenever Peter did. It amused Pete to see his naked, curvy lover scrambling around on his hands and knees or ass. He made himself cereal and ate it sitting at the table with Steve was bunched up underneath, completely ignored since they had left the bed. Peter fed him his usual breakfast when he heard this cocksleeve's stomach growl, though he reckoned a lot of Steve's usual enjoyment was lost as his cum shot straight down his throat without Steve getting a taste. 

After washing himself in the shower, Peter commended Steve to piss. "Do it now, or hold it all day." Steve was still oddly shy about peeing in front of anybody, and it took several minutes before Peter could see a yellow tint to the water going down the drain. Before turning off the water he lifted one of Steve's legs and twisted his body so that the spray washed off his little nub. He toweled himself dry in the bathroom, free to glance down and see his fat bitch wet and neglected on the floor and unable to see anything besides Peter's pubes. 

Peter set himself on his usual corner of the couch and let his tablet power up. His cocksleeve had stopped making any signs of discomfort, so he knew he had to switch the game up. Besides, it was time to milk the bitch. 

He unclipped Steve's gag from the harness and pulled his dick away. "Milk yourself over that ottoman. I want to hear a loud "moo" for every ounce you produce." 

He could tell by the way Steve stiffened his shoulders that Steve wasn't a fan of that order, but he shuffled off morosely to set up the milking machine by the ottoman and situated himself as directed. Peter pretended to be engrossed with his device, but watched Steve shiver as the pumps went to work on his teats. 

Steve's first "Moo" was barely audible. "I said LOUD!" Peter reminded him. 

"Moo!" Steve said defiantly the next few times, but eventually his lowing lost the attitude if not the volume. Peter lost track of how many ounces the pump collected, but he would bet Steve didn't. The blond's ears stayed red the entire duration of his milking. 

"I didn't say you could turn it off," Peter reminded him when he saw Steve reach for the power switch. He let the submissive wait for another three minutes before he put aside his tablet and walked over to free Steve from the machine. "Stand up," he ordered. When Steve did, he could see his little nub was perking up. "Go into the bedroom and choose a pair of panties to wear. If you come back out in a thong, I'll cage up your clitty. If you pick something else, I am going to make you cum in them and wear them all day." 

He went back to the couch wondering what Steve was going to choose. When Steve emerged he was wearing black bikini underwear made of a synthetic fabric that would be quick-drying. Completely unsexy except for the way it made his dick and balls nearly unnoticeable. He almost looked smooth. By Steve's expression, he had thought he had won the battle and selected the least humiliating underwear. 

Peter webbed the coat closet door open. "Your new boyfriend is in there. I want you to bring him out and give him a cuddle." 

Steve reluctantly went over and pulled out a giant stuffed dog. It was a soft, floppy sheepdog toy nearly the size of the ottoman. He didn't say anything, but his expression plainly said, "Really?" 

"Give him a hug. He'll probably feel nice squished against your titties and belly rolls," Peter prompted with exaggerated cheer. Steve followed directions robotically except for a blush. 

"Give him a name," Pete ordered. 

Steve tucked his face into the toy's fake fur, probably to hide an eyeroll. "Billy," he said in a careless tone that communicated "this is a very stupid game, but I am playing along anyway." 

"Now you are going to put Billy on the floor. Put him down gently and make him comfortable." 

Steve complied, not bothering to hide how he rolled his eyes up toward the heavens with exasperation. He waited on his knees beside the toy for Pete's next directions. 

"You can come, but only if you rub your slutty clit against Billy and say 'I want your doggy cock. Fuck me like a bitch.'" 

Steve glared at Peter. The brunet just kept his gaze level and said, "I will punish you if you disobey. You chose to cum in your panties, you can't change your mind without consequences." 

Steve glowered at the toy, evaluating the ramifications of humiliation vs. punishment. Peter wondered whether he would do this or dare to take whatever mystery punishment Peter had planned. 

With a decided lack of enthusiasm, Steve splayed himself over the plush dog. His hips jerked only a fraction as he tested out rutting against the toy, and he began to snake a hand underneath himself. 

"No touching yourself! And remember what you need to say; Billy has crippling performance issues, so you need to continuously stroke his ego. Keep telling him what he wants to hear until he gets you to come." 

He heard Steve grudgingly tell the floor, "I want your doggy cock," as he rocked his groin against the stuffed animal. "Fuck me like a bitch," came out a bit more breathlessly a few seconds later as Steve began feeling pleasure from humping the toy. 

Peter had already set up a camera, turned on its feed, and was adjusting its framing on his tablet. He watched greedily as Steve turned his cheek to rest on the toy's head so he could breathe easier, exposing his red face. "I want your doggy cock," Steve repeated. "Fuck me like a bitch." 

"Make the lines your own, Steve," Peter directed casually. "Play around with them. Let Billy know what a stud he is." 

Oh, he had set this up beautifully! Steve was so riled up from giving head and being milked and not getting his desperate clit or pussy touched all morning that he was desperate to get off. He just needed another nudge to put him in that state where he would be so focused on feeding his sexual needs that he wouldn't pay much attention to what his brain and mouth were saying. 

"You have two minutes to get off before Billy goes away," Peter said. His deadline made Steve let his hips go wild in his desperate pursuit for orgasm. "Gimme your fat doggy dick, Billy," Steve demanded quietly but fiercely between gasping breaths. "Make me your bitch, make me take your fucking knot. Make me come, I'll make you come, I'll take all your cum in in my cunt. Let me come, let me come, lemme come," Steve growled out mindlessly, his pelvis working fast and hard, just on the cusp of coming. 

Peter didn't know Steve had an interest in bestiality porn, but the dude was really improvising. Peter squeezed the head of his own cock in one hand, his gaze switching back and forth from the livestream of Steve's face to the live action taking place across the room. 

"Knot... me... like... your... bitch!" Was the last thing Steve ground out before he climaxed, his entire body going stiff with his tiny dick in its panties shoved hard against the huge stuffed animal. He went limp after a couple seconds, collapsing onto the toy under him. 

Peter gave him the space for several breaths before he ordered Steve to get up. Steve looked over at him, too satiated at the moment to be angry or embarrassed, then pulled himself together to crawl to the couch. Peter pulled him into his lap and pulled out the wide plug Steve had inserted before bed. There was lube on the floor beside the couch, and Peter pumped out a handfull and started greasing up Steve's ass. He hauled Steve into his cock and slid his clean hand into the front of the panties. Steve's balls had gotten smaller the more of Peter's cum he had taken, and the sticky wad Steve had blown was much less than what he used to make. Peter had a new word he used when he was feeling particularly mean. 

"You made a mess, baby." He lifted his dirty hand up to Steve's face. "Clean up your squirt, honey." 

Steve, still come-drunk, obeyed, licking at and sucking Peter's hand and fingers with no protest. 

Peter's super strength meant he could easily handle Steve's weight as he fucked him. Once Steve had mostly cleaned his right hand, Peter used it along with his other one to lift Steve up and drive him down hard on his dick. His bitch rode him limply, letting Peter bounce him on his cock. Steve's serum meant his ass could recover within an hour from a hard reaming. They had to keep it filled with toys to keep it gaping enough to take Peter's cock easily. Usually Steve used a super long dildo to keep his entire passage open, but the plug he had worn overnight just kept his hole stretched, so Peter's monster dong was literally shoving itself into Steve's guts. Anybody other than Steve, with his innate masochism, would have been fighting to get away, but Steve just stayed relaxed until Peter reached completion. 

"You ever think about getting fucked by a dog, Steve?" 

"...No," Steve said, his face entirely red. 

"Don't lie," Peter said. "All that knotting talk- you've definitely seen some porn on the topic. ...Unless you're into furries." 

"Not into furries," Steve muttered defensively. "Maybe I've thought about it, but I don't actually want to do it." 

"Okay," Peter said. "But I can easily picture you being mounted by a dog. Something big, that would use you and leave you hanging off of his knot, all fucked out and ashamed that you had let an animal use you like that." He reached around and found Steve's small dick standing up the best it could with excitement. "Ooh, you like that idea." 

"Nuh-uh," Steve protested, turned on again by the imagery and utterly ashamed of his attraction to the idea. 

"Well, you'll have to calm yourself down. I have someone coming over." 

"Tony?" Steve asked. 

"Nope. Somebody new. Put on your sweatpants and a T-shirt and wash your face. Remember, keep your panties on." 

Peter put away the dog and other evidence of the morning's illicit activities. He was back on the couch with Steve when the alert for a visitor sounded. 

Peter met the man at the door and greeted him like an acquaintance not a stranger or a friend. Steve was a bit wary of what this visitor meant, but he came to the entryway and let himself be politely introduced to the man. 

"Melvin Potter makes superhero armor, among other things," Peter explained. "I was referred to him by a friend. He's here for a private consultation." 

They moved to the living room and sat down. Melvin unzipped a backpack and pulled out several sets of handcuffs and lengths of metal bars. They discussed alloys and torque forces and Peter let himself get cuffed with two different pairs and tried to break them; one set held. The he tested the metal rods to see which ones resisted his super strength. He ended the casual chat by making an order. Then he turned to Steve and said, "I want both of us to get piercings." 

Steve was mentally taken off balance. "What?" 

"Melvin agreed to pierce my dick. I want him to give you nipple rings. Do you think you can do that?" 

Steve figured his nipples wouldn't hurt as bad as getting his dick pierced. He was embarrassed at the thought of this stranger seeing his nips, though-- they were nearly half an inch long after all the pumping Peter had coaxed him to do even before he started lactating. But he didn't think it would hurt much, and he knew that Peter might punish him if he said no. So he nodded. 

Peter smiled at him and patted his thigh. "Awesome! I'll need you to hold my hand while he does me." They set up in the kitchen. Melvin very professionally sanitized his tools and didn't bat an eye when Peter pulled out his big dick. Even soft, it was still much larger than anyone would have guessed, given Pete's size. 

After cleaning the area carefully, the piercing was done quickly, and they were admiring the reverse Prince Albert. The ends of the circular barbell were extra large beads, according to Melvin- 9 millimeters, when the usual ones were around 4. He said Peter could change them out for bigger beads after everything healed. 

Then it was Steve's turn. He took off his shirt and let Melvin re-sterilize his tools and sterilize his nipples and the surrounding areas. The process hardly hurt, and soon Steve was sporting 2 (what Peter called) captive bead rings. 

"One more okay?" Peter asked. "In your nose. You know you could take these out and heal up with no problem. I just want to see how you'd look with a nose ring." 

Steve was bemused, but consented. This piercing hurt a lot more, and when it was done the weight of the jewelry hung heavy and cold on his upper lip. 

"Stay here and relax while I show Melvin out," Peter said casually, though Steve knew by his sharp look that this was another order. 

After paying and thanking the armorer, Peter felt giddy as he returned to the kitchen. "Let me see how it's healing," he said, and he examined Steve's nose. "You've got faster healing than me," he said. "It practically looks like it's been there for years." He abruptly gave a hard yank on the ring and Steve fell forward onto the floor. 

"What? Ow!" His complaint was more out of surprise than actual pain. Peter pulled a- _a leash_ from a drawer and clipped the end to the ring in Steve's nose. 

"You need to see yourself," Peter said, his tugging forcing Steve to crawl to the bedroom where the closet door was a full length mirror. He tore Steve's clothes off and Steve was left sitting on his launches like a dog facing the mirror. The new piercings, however, made him feel more like livestock instead of a house pet. The ring in his nose was huge; a large, thick silver metal ring hanging from his septum like he was a bull or pig. The bottom hung over his upper lip. 

"Let's try these, too," Peter said. Steve sat in shock as Pete put a thick black leather collar around his neck and then brought another strap over his head and hooked it to his nostrils. 

"It's a nose hook," Peter said, leering meanly. "I thought it would really complete the look." 

It did. Steve started crying. He looked... bestial. Dehumanized. As much as the large nose ring made him feel like a bull, seeing his nostrils stretched high made him look so much more like a pig. Like a dumb, stubborn animal that needed to be yanked around by the head. 

"Ooh, you like that," Pete cooed mockingly. Even as Steve cried, his little dickie was poking out the front of his crusty panties. Peter squatted next to him and tapped the fabric-covered bump with a finger. "I know you've seen porn like this. What do you call a big man with long teats and an ugly mug like this?" 

"...A tit pig," Steve replied. He felt his clitty spit out precum. He looked hideous and depraved. Like a pervert who was announcing his cravings for debasement to the world. Peter threaded the leash still attached to his face down between his legs. He shoved Steve's face to the floor and pushed the back of the panties down and stuck four fingers into Steve's hole. The gape hadn't closed all the way yet, so Peter figured Steve could take some stretching. He used a web to grab lube from under the bed and started slicking up his hand. 

"Tit pigs usually have dicks and balls, though. You hardly have anything but a soft little clitty between your fat thighs. I think that makes you a sow." Peter twisted his hand deeper into Steve's ass until all his fingers were in except his thumb. Checking Steve's reflection, the blond looked lost in his head with the humiliation and was hardly paying Peter any attention. He gave the strap over Steve's head a yank where it connected to the back of the collar and Steve's teary blue eyes met his gaze in the mirror. "You're a sow," Peter reiterated. 

"I'm a sow," Steve repeated dutifully. "A _sow_." His voice broke on a sob. 

"Do you like being a fat sow, Steve? With big teats dripping with milk?" Steve's hole was now slick and wide and practically sucked Peter's hand inside. 

"It makes me horny," Steve confessed quietly, full of shame. "I like it." 

Peter used his free hand to hold the leash behind Steve, pulling it up so that it rubbed against his small package. Steve cried out, then sucked in a gasp when his lover's other hand fisted itself deeper into his ass. 

"I'm going to fist fuck you and you're going to grunt, baby. No words until you get off and squirt." Peter did as he had said, pushing one fist into Steve's hole and dragging the leash against his stubby dicklet as he pulled it back. Steve grunted and gasped and sobbed and made other nonverbal noises as he flexed back into every stimulating touch. It didn't take long until he shot another small load into his undies. 

Peter pulled his hand out. "Stay," he ordered the trembling mess curled on the floor. He took several minutes washing his hands and wrists thoroughly. He came back with another strap and lubed-up toy. He inserted the ass-hook into Steve and attached it by the strap to the collar. For good measure, he tightened the strap to the nose hook, too. He prompted Steve to get up on his hands and knees and removed the soiled panties then washed his bare groin and asshole with wet wipes. He took the leash and used it to bring Steve to the kitchen. Steve was still lost in the fog in his mind; he held his head up proudly because of the nose and anal hooks but his eyes were vague and fuzzy. 

Peter sat with him on the kitchen floor and fed him fruit and Gatorade, not saying anything, just leaving Steve to his headspace. Steve crawled after him to the bathroom and almost immediately let go when Peter commanded him to miss in the shower. After a brief rinse, Peter dried Steve off brusquely. 

The apartment was pleasant enough to remain naked in, but Peter left Steve on a large cushion on the floor and covered with a blanket because he knew the man had trauma leftover from being in the ice. He settled down on the couch again with his tablet in full view of Steve to see when he woke up. 

It wasn't too long before 6 PM when Steve was awake and aware, so Peter took everything off of him and cuddled and did more aftercare without any more play that evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve had a craving for dog dick that I didn't plan on before I wrote this.


	11. P/S, feminization, breeding kink, role play, cuckolding play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's body has undergone some major changes since he and Peter got together. Peter takes advantage of his shame with some role play and they both enjoy it.

JARVIS had said he noticed some anomalies, so here the three men were looking at detailed scans and information about Steve's body 

"That's a... womb?!" Steve said, horrified. "Are you sure? How?" 

Tony shrugged. "Your physiology and Peter's physiology are weird. You knew that ingesting Peter's weird ejaculate was making changes, but you keep on doing it. I don't want an answer so please don't tell me, but think of how much cum Peter makes that you swallow... or, don't swallow, also, I guess." 

"Can I get pregnant?" 

"You don't have ovaries. So far. So no. Unless you get eggs implanted in there, but that would require work and would not happen on accident." 

"Is that-" Peter said, pointing at a digital xray. 

"-the cervix and passage? Yes, Steve's rectum forks into his colon and then a... vagina, for lack of a better term. It's pretty far up there, though." Tony explained, looking very uncomfortable. "Steve would definitely want a Cesarean delivery; I'm not sure a... natural birth would be possible." 

The older men looked nauseous. Peter, a recent student of human biology, just looked intrigued. 

* * *

Later on, Steve and Peter were cuddled in bed. 

"I like the thought of you pregnant, Steve," Peter admitted. 

Steve's face burned with a blush. "I'm not a woman." 

"But you've got breasts like a woman," Peter teased in a sing-song tone. "They are even making milk. So far we've been incinerating most of it. Gallons and gallons each week. It's a waste. Imagine if you had a purpose for all your milk. Imagine feeding a baby with your tits." 

"I don't want a baby," Steve said. 

"Would you want to be pregnant?" 

"It's the same thing," Steve said. 

"Not entirely. There are surrogates who don't raise babies after they're born." He abruptly cracked up. Steve jabbed him with an elbow, though the flesh-covered joint didn't give the desired effect. 

"Why are you laughing?" He demanded. 

"Oh, the irony, Steve! Out of the thousands of gay couples in New York, we are the only pair that have the ability to actually mother our own children, and we don't want to!" 

Steve frowned. That fact did prod at his conscious a bit. He swatted it down; a majority of women also had the ability to give birth but didn't feel obligated to use it. 

"Hey, let's pretend. Just for a couple days. Let's pretend I get you pregnant," Peter requested. Demanded? Steve wasn't sure if he felt a difference between those anymore. He generally liked to do what Peter wanted, and if he really didn't, Peter would let the request go without any debate. 

But he doubtfully replied, "Okay, we can try it. I don't think I will get into it." 

Peter leered. "But what if it's not a happy accident, babe? You'll get knocked up because I want you to get knocked up. Let's do it tomorrow." 

* * *

Steve's ears burned even though he was in the apartment alone. Peter had texted him and asked him to be waiting for him to get home after work wearing their latest Captain America-themed lingerie. 

It was getting harder to find novelty lingerie in Steve's size as he kept getting bigger. His weight gain had slowed considerably at 350 pounds, thankfully. 

This garment was a sheer, frilly blue baby doll nightie. The white star sat in the middle of the chest, stretched slightly out of shape by his breasts. The skirt was red with white stars and barely brushed the tops of his thighs. 

Also, as requested, Steve was plugged up with a Spider-Man-themed dildo. This one was nearly the size of Peter's monster-sized cock. (Peter had never allowed any Cap-themed plugs or dildos; he said he wanted Steve stuffed with his colors if he had the option. Steve thought that was stupid- they both were red and blue. Peter just kept on insisting that they were _his_ colors.) 

Peter swept in, looking like the nerdy scientist he was in real life. Not like the superhero the City knew him as, or the sexual dominant Steve loved. 

"Hi, baby. You look like you've been waiting to give me a special welcome home." 

Steve just smiled and nodded, blushing, unsure what the script was to be for the evening. 

His lover wrapped himself around Steve, sticking his face into his tits. 

"Did you order dinner?" His question was muffled by Steve's flesh. 

"I thought I'd make some pasta tonight," Steve replied. 

Peter unzipped his slacks and dropped trou. Steve could feel the wet head of the long dick nudge at his thighs. He pulled his head back to look Steve in the face while he smiled. "You know, you're the perfect wife! All we need is a couple kids running around the place to be the perfect family." 

Steve remembered what they had discussed in bed last night and blushed harder. Did Peter have a fantasy of Steve being some traditional housewife? 

"I know we said we didn't want kids, honey, but I've changed my mind." 

Steve hoped this was Peter playing a role. He couldn't get pregnant, he reminded himself. "I didn't," he said. "Change my mind, I mean." Why did he sound so timid and uncertain? 

Pete's grin morphed into something darker. "I make the decisions around here, sweetheart, and I've decided that you would serve a better purpose knocked up with my children." He shoved Steve around and bent him over the back of the couch, pressing his face with its multiple chins into the rough upholstery. He pulled out the dildo and plunged his cock inside. 

"You're such a fat slut, Steve!" He said. "Your cunt has gotten so loose and sloppy. It shouldn't be too hard for you to squeeze out a baby or two. Or ten. How many kids should we have? Do you think I can knock you up with multiples at once with my mutant jizz?" 

Steve was enjoying the hard fuck as long as he kept remembering that none of what Peter was saying was true. "Definitely," he said, in answer to Pete's rhetorical question. 

"I wasn't asking you, whore." Peter said. "All you are good for is taking my dick and making dinner. And eating! Jesus, Steve, do you just lounge around all day eating junk food while I actually work? What use do you have if you're not on my dick?" 

The mean things his lover was saying worked their magic, and the embarrassment made Steve crave every rough thrust, his mind spiralling up as his shame only fed his arousal. 

"You are a useless fat blob, Steve! Now that you have the tits and the womb, all you should ever do is get bred! I'll fill you up with enough cum that you'll be downing in milk and babies in the future. Do you like that, Steve? Would you like being a fat broodmare made fatter with babies? You want a dozen kids all chewing on your teats until you're a just a worn out, flabby sack of milk?" 

He shook Steve by the shoulders, so Steve sobbed out, "Yes!" in encouragement for the insults and the good reaming. His clitty squirted, making a wet spot on the couch that was going to chafe his delicate cocklet, but he didn't care. 

Peter shot webs at the ceiling, giving himself some leverage to get a knee on the back of the sofa so he could change the depth and angle of his cock. 

"...There!" He said, triumphantly, a moment later, and Steve felt the head of the thick invading pole snake up somewhere new in his body. Peter was fucking into Steve's vagina, he realized. The reminder of his new female anatomy made him feel vulnerable and ashamed. The walls of this new passage were virgin, and the thickness of Peter's cock made Steve realize he was being opened up in a new way. His boyfriend had managed to find some unplumbed depths in Steve's body and was fucking this new part of him into submission. 

"Gonna fill you up with my cum," Peter growled, biting ungently at Steve's ear. "Gonna knock you up, impregnate you. You're gonna be useless, swollen with my babies. Even fatter than you are now; unable to move. I'll keep you in the bathtub, where you won't have to move for anything. Bring you food, 'cuz all my jizz will be going up into your cunt!" Steve could feel when Pete's hose washed his new vagina in its release. 

Steve could imagine it: him lying naked, practically filling up up tub with his fat bulk. Left to drool and piss himself as he couldn't do anything but dream about Peter's dick and watch his belly got bigger and bigger. He shuddered with disgust and intense arousal. 

"What'll they call you, all those kids, huh?" Peter asked, his voice quieter but no less intense after the climax of his orgasm. He was still hard, and the cock still rocked Steve's body with its force. 

"I dunno. 'Mom'?" Steve guessed. 

"Wrong," Peter said, nastily. "You'll just be the hole they crawled out of. All you will be able to do is give them your milk. I'll teach every. Single. One. To call you _cow_." 

Steve went cold with the thought of being so dehumanized. "No," he cried, _really_ cried. 

Peter changed tack, pulling out of Steve and turning him around to cuddle him. "You'd rather be called 'Mommy,' then?" 

Steve shook his head, crying and sniffling, lost for words. 

"Shhh, Steve, shh," Peter crooned, rocking him gently. "Of course I'd never leave you like that. Never treat you like that. I'm not gonna make you sleep anywhere except with me." He slid his hand over Steve's fat belly mound. "Do you think it worked? Can you feel a baby in there?" 

"Yes," Steve lied, playing along. 

Peter left to get one of their smaller butt plugs from the bedroom. "I want you to keep this in until bedtime. Then you take it out, clean yourself, then do not put anything in your pussy for the rest of the night." 

"Why?" Steve asked. He enjoyed having something in his ass nearly 'round the clock. It reminded him that he was keeping himself ready for Pete to be able to use him at any time. 

"The doctor said no sex for a while after we've conceived. We don't want anything bad to happen, do we?" 

Steve was sure that his lover was making this up, but shrugged obediently. "Fine." 

Dinner went normally, and then Peter got dressed in his costume to go out and burn off his excess energy fighting crime. Steve spent some time on his drawing tablet; his hands and wrists had gotten too fat for him to be able to sketch comfortably in charcoal or pencil without smearing everything. He readied himself for bed and followed Peter's instructions to the letter 

In revenge, Steve didn't take the initiative in the morning to give Peter his accustomed blow job. Peter finally woke up, noticed his unattended erection, and entered the living room at full mast looking sleepy and grumpy. 

"Morning sickness," Steve said, trying to keep his fake expression of disgust from showing the amusement he actually felt. Peter scowled, but followed the rules of the game he had started. "There are saltines in the cupboard, _dear_ , if you decide your delicate tummy can handle food this morning." 

* * *

Peter hadn't fucked him in three days, in either his mouth or ass. Steve's body missed it, but his mind was almost satisfied with the mix of loving coddling and humiliation Peter gave him verbally and sensually. He had stroked Steve's clitty at least twice a day to get him off, but no toys or body parts had been allowed in Steve's hole. After months of being filled near constantly, his prostate especially mourned the lack of being stimulated. 

"Hey, how's Mommy today?" Peter said when he came up one evening. He made a beeline to feel up Steve's belly. 

Tonight, the sexual frustration was really getting to Steve, and his patience at the game was wearing thin. 

" _Mommy,_ " he said disdainfully, "needs a good, hard fuck." 

"Oh, honey," Pete said sympathetically, "You only needed to ask. Get yourself comfy over the ottoman. I have something special for you to watch as I make you feel better." 

Steve had no idea what this "something special" was, but he undressed and draped himself over the piece of furniture while his boyfriend went into the bedroom. 

Peter returned naked, half-hard, and carrying lube. The promise of getting off appeased Steve, so he settled down with anticipation. 

"I met an old acquaintance today," Peter said casually as he pulled apart Steve's cheeks to gently stroke his hole. "He's such a dick! I can only take his presence in small amounts. We had lunch together in the cafe." "Cafe" was really a misnomer; it was more of a cafeteria on the third level of the Tower where most of Stark's employees ate during the work day. "JARVIS recorded the whole thing, of course. I thought you might be interested in watching it. We'll keep the sound off; no need for you to get bored, too, with his monologue about himself." 

The TV flared to life, and Steve was able to pick out his slender, brown-haired boyfriend in the wide shot of the mess hall. He was sitting across from a blond guy. The image switched to an angle from behind Peter and Steve gasped. The man his lover was talking to looked a lot like Steve! 

Peter started pushing into Steve's asshole with a wet finger. "You can see the resemblance?" Steve could hear the waver in his voice-- Peter wasn't sure how Steve was feeling and how he should play this game. 

"He looks like I used to," Steve said, his eyes critically examining the stranger. 

"Johnny's not as buff as you used to be," Peter half-agreed. "But definitely more toned than you are now." 

Steve let out a short laugh at the understatement. "Do you think he's hot?" 

He could hear that Peter had scrunched up his face in distaste. "No. Remember when we first started fucking? I told you I like big guys with curves, not muscles. What made you the exception was how hungry you were to be dominated and fed and made soft." He was two fingers in, now, and Steve was squirming with the sensation. "And his personality is a complete turn-off for me. I just had lunch with him so we could make this recording and enjoy how much our lives have changed." 

Steve pushed his hips back in a demand for more attention. "Make me jealous," he said. "Remind how I've become your fat housewife." 

Peter upped the ante and was working Steve's hole like he had a deadline to get his dick in there. "I love my pregnant wifey," he cooed. "But if you want me to make you think I want Johnny, I'll try. You wanna cry over the body you lost? Feel the shame of being a fat cow with saggy moobs and a huge ass?" 

Steve totally wanted that. His small dick was hard and he humped it against the cushion. 

Peter got up and draped himself over Steve's back so he could see the screen. His cock was still only half-hard as it lay on Steve's spine between their bodies. "You used to be a man like that, Steve. Hard muscle, all man. You're just my fat bitch now, aren'tcha? Couldn't stop yourself from eating all the cum I could give you? Cock-hungry slut!" 

Steve moaned; he wasn't even looking at the sub-par Captain America wannabe anymore. His eyes had clenched closed as he ground his baby dick into the ottoman. Peter's hands roamed across the acres of his skin, his fingers digging into rolls of fat or slapping bulges just to make parts of him jiggle. 

"You're my soft woman now, right baby? Your cock is practically gone; all that's left is a bitch-clitty, right? You've got inch-long udders for nipples hanging off of two big milk sacs on your chest. Johnny isn't hiding anything like that in his shirt, is he? _Is he?_ " Peter yanked Steve's head up by his hair to get him to look at the TV. 

"No," Steve moaned, floating in shame and arousal. 

"You think that stud on the screen, that I ate lunch with today, is hiding a clit and fat, wet pussy in those jeans?" 

"No!" 

Peter put the tip of his dick at Steve's entrance. "Do you have a wet needy pussy, Steve?" 

"Yes!" Steve shouted, craving that touch, hungry for Pete's monster tool to plunge inside. His lover's strong hands kept his ass from hitching up and trying to slip it inside. 

"Are you just a soft needy pussy? A crying, messy cumdump of a slut constantly craving cock?" Peter crooned. 

"Yes!" 

Peter finally pushed his rod in, and Steve came quickly at the delayed gratification. His boyfriend fucked him hard, rocking the ottoman, shoving Steve's shoulders down to squish his tits against the piece of furniture, his nips feeling like hard knots pushing against all the soft flesh. Steve cried at the overwhelming sensation he had desperately been deprived of for days. He cried at the image of his boyfriend having a conversation with someone he used to look just like _but even better than._ He cried at the fact that tomorrow he wouldn't have the courage to go down to the cafe on the third floor to join Peter for lunch in public; that he was a big, fat, shameful secret locked up at the top of the tower like a captive princess. 

"You're my sex-addicted cow, Steve!" Peter huffed as he pulled out of Steve's ass. "I'm gonna fuck your cunt properly." He pushed in part of the way and wiggled the head of his monster until he found the entrance to the vagina. He shoved himself in with little care, and Steve felt his insides convulse around the still-new passage, and he shuddered at the physical proof that he was no longer a true man; that he had let himself be adapted exclusively for Peter's use. 

His body wracked with shudders of internally-stimulated orgasm-- something entirely new. He could feel the jelly rolls of his double and triple chins wobble at Peter's strong thrusts as he sobbed with intense pleasure and embarrassment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuses:  
> I have never been interested in cuckolding, but the fact that Chris Evans' Johnny Storm exists means that they are doppelgangers in my headcanon, and that was too hard for me to resist.  
> PS, I guess Steve didn't keep the septum ring. Ehh, continuity doesn't matter much in a filthy wankfic, anyway.
> 
> Notes:  
> I'm trying to keep things kinky/sweet/salty. Wanna keep the sass and humor factor as well as depict this being a fulfilling and consensual relationship. P&S aren't D/S 24/7, but that part is not what I'm interested in writing; I just hope I allude enough to get that across. (Unless you are trying to read this as non-/dub-con.)


	12. P/S, fucking machine, dub-con alien dog bestiality, mpreg, fade to black birth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve helps out a lonely space dog and gets an unplanned puppy pregnancy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This should be the only chapter with bestiality, so skip it in case that squicks you.
> 
> I entirely skip the birth process because I am not into the idea of ass-babies so I made it a C-section anyway.

Peter had really lucked out. Or, rather, Steve would be the lucky one. Ever since their playtime with "Billy" the oversized stuffed dog, Peter had discreetly asked around his group of friends and super-powered "co-workers" to find a stud worthy of knotting Steve. 

It was Ben Grimm that had the answer. A bulldog he called Sparky. Sparky wasn't an ordinary dog- he had powers and came from someplace/time far removed from Peter's NYC. 

Ben's consternation at the repeated messes left by an intact male dog had made him okay with the general idea of giving Sparky access to an anonymous pervert's ass. He didn't want them to force the dog into anything, but he didn't want any details, either. 

Peter had been working Steve's hole the past few days to prepare him for his surprise blind "date." He wasn't sure at first how he was going to break the news, but he finally had a plan for today. 

Mr. Stark had provided a fucking machine fit for a former super soldier that was now in the second guest bedroom. Steve had been strapped to it for the past 70 minutes, his dick locked up and phalluses of increasing length and girth edging him over and over. He had been crying and begging to come for the last half hour and was reaching that state of desperation where he would agree to even the most debasing things if Peter promised him an orgasm. 

Peter stopped the machine and examined Steve's hole. It gaped wider than he had ever seen it, and his insides were red but not damaged. 

"I found a stud for you. A real one, better than Billy," Peter began his pitch, applying more lubricant to Steve's ass. "He's a big boy, and he's so lonely; no one has found a bitch with a cunt big enough to take him." Steve's gasps had quieted. He was listening. 

"I thought I would get you ready today just in case you wanted to meet him," Peter added. "I don't know if he'll be interested, but I thought maybe you two could see if you were... compatible. And if you are, well..." He walked to the side of the bench Steve was strapped to and tapped at the cage on his dick. "I would take this off and we'll see how many times you can come on his knot." 

Steve's expression was a mix of intrigue and disgust. "It wouldn't hurt me?" 

"He's very well trained," Peter assured him. "I've met him. And he isn't a normal dog; he's been mutated and has psychic abilities. Pre-cog, among other things, and I think that may have been why he was so happy to meet me." 

His lover was really considering this. Peter just had to make a few more assurances. "The owner, I guess, if you could call him that, says that the poor boy is a lonely horn-dog. I told him I knew a guy who was interested in finding a canine playmate. He didn't want any details, just made me promise we wouldn't try to force the dog into anything." Peter crouched down close to Steve and stroked his sweaty hair off his face. "You wanna meet him? He can be here in a flash." 

Steve refused to cave immediately. "I'll meet him, but I'm not promising anything." 

Peter started undoing the straps that held him in place. "Well, I won't release your clitty until I get a promise, babe." He helped Steve get to his feet, then shoved the machine against the wall leaving the room mostly clear of furniture. "I'll just give him a-" 

He was interrupted by the appearance of the dog in question. The room was suddenly made much smaller by a huge dog whose massive body came up to the men's chins. 

Steve made a noise of shock and looked at Peter in confusion. Pete shrugged. "Told you he's a pre-cog. Say hello to Lockjaw, also known as Sparky." 

The bulldog's attention was entirely on Steve. He snuffled at him with his enormous nose, then barked excitedly. 

"Ooh, you must smell like a ready bitch, Steve! His tip's already peeking out!" 

Steve was red-faced with humiliation and he was trying to evade Sparky's tongue. 

Peter walked around their visitor and pressed against his boyfriend''s naked, sweaty back. "You can see why he hasn't been able to find a nice girl dog to help him get his rocks off, can't you? Do you want me to unlock your little dickie now?" 

Lockjaw barked again, as if he was answering. Peter knelt in front of Steve and removed the tiny chastity device. 

"Get on your hands and knees. I wanna see if he's interested and knows what to do," Peter encouraged. Steve obediently complied, and Lockjaw's nose and tongue were immediately paying vigorous attention to Steve's big ass. Steve pressed his face to the backs of his hands and tried to choke off his moans. "You like it, Steve. You want it, don't you? Go ahead and say it." 

Steve's voice was muffled, almost stifled with his shame, but Peter was able to hear the man say, "I want it." 

Lockjaw seemed to hear the confession, too, and he quickly got into place, poking his red rocket against Steve. With some squirming, Steve got it properly lined up, and the dog pushed in with a quiet whuff of satisfaction eclipsed by Steve's long "Oooof," as the invading flesh pushed the air from his lungs. 

Peter held back all the dirty things he was inspired to say as Steve adjusted to the impalement. Predictably, the blond's skin from his face to his chest was red with shame at his enjoyment of his defilement. 

He couldn't get too close to Steve with the giant dog completely covering Steve's voluptuous form, but he was sure Steve could hear him as he reassured him. "It's okay for you to like this. Sparky is having such a good time, too! How does his dick feel?" 

"Big," Steve panted. "Different." 

"It certainly looks big. You're just a sleeve hanging from his sheath. Can you feel his furry balls slapping your ass?" 

Steve's first orgasm of the day happened at that moment. He went boneless under the massive beast, his eyes rolling white in his head. Peter webbed a low hanging sling across the room to keep Steve's limp body from travelling forward on Sparky's thrusts. 

The dog seemed to redouble his efforts at fucking his willing bitch. Drool flew from his wide maw and landed on the walls, floor, and possibly even ceiling. His tongue hung out and swayed with the exertion of his stubby hips. The sound of his labored breathing filled the space. Steve flailed weakly; giving Peter a hint that the dog was starting to knot. 

"I wanna see you dangle from that knot!" Peter encouraged, pulling out his incredibly eager cock to throttle it with both his hands. His wish came true, as Lockjaw sat on his hindquarters briefly, yanking Steve's ass up with him, before laying back down and resting his barrel chest on Steve's pillowy body. Steve came again, thrashing his arms from under the furry form; Peter could only tell because of his O face. 

"Is he too heavy for you?" 

Steve tiredly shook his head. 

"Is he filling you up with more cum than I can?" Peter jerked himself roughly, too excited to use or need any finesse. "Fuck, it's gonna run out of your hole like a drainspout. You think we have anything big enough to plug you up?" 

Steve was riding the high of his second coming and didn't react to Pete's filth. It hadn't been the best thing in the world, but it certainly was a very stimulating experience. 

Peter brought himself off, then sprawled on the floor a couple feet away from the odd couple. When Lockjaw finally pulled out and stood up he licked Steve several times before stepping away to start tongue-bathing his own sticky parts. Peter took the opportunity to pull Steve away and cradle his head in his lap, heedless of the mess. 

"I guess he was a gentlemen, but he still is a dog," Peter commented, making a face at Lockjaw's self-cleaning noises. 

Steve laughed once before stopping as he felt a rush of dog cum slop out of him. "The weirdest things gross you out." 

"The weirdest things turn us on," Peter shot back. 

* * *

They had to keep Steve's ass gaping after that. Lockjaw tended to teleport in with no warning, and even Steve felt guilty at the sad noises and giant puppy dog eyes Sparky gave them if they had to deny him access. 

When they had moved back into the Tower, Steve had asked for JARVIS' "eyes and ears" to be turned off in every room but the kitchen. With the giant alien dog popping in at odd times, Peter activated them with Steve's permission just in case something went wrong during their "play dates." 

Steve wasn't told that Peter had JARVIS alert him whenever Steve's side piece came calling so he could pull up live video feeds of Steve getting railed, but Peter figured if Steve knew he might get self-conscious. 

"Ooh, gotta big load of cum for me today?" Steve crooned one afternoon when Sparky showed up ready to go. Peter locked his lab and got himself comfortable to watch. Steve pulled out the massive fake dong that had been keeping him open and used a hand to lube himself up. Lockjaw was impatient and kept getting his short muzzle in the way, and Steve just laughed. 

When the alien hound sunk his dick in, Steve's eyes rolled back with erotic pleasure. Peter jerked himself off listening to Steve encourage Sparky with wonderfully filthy words. "Gimme your knot, c'mon! Use me as your bitch and fuck me full of your cum! I wanna be locked on your dick and useless as anything but your knotsleeve!" 

After the first two visits, neither Steve nor Peter ever mentioned Lockjaw's daytime hookups. Until Lockjaw started visiting without seeming to have any interest besides sniffing and licking Steve. These visits puzzled them the first couple of times before JARVIS gave them an unexpected explanation. 

"Steve, you have nine additional faint heartbeats. I would suggest a meeting with Mr. Stark." 

Peter and Steve looked at each other with wide eyes. "Nine?!" Peter exclaimed. "Holy fuck!" 

Steve had been knocked up with nine giant space dogs. 

"It looks like a usual canine gestation is 58-68 days, but apparently Lockjaw can reproduce without ova, so all the rules are out the window," Tony said, looking almost annoyed. "I can't tell you anything, except advise you to let JARVIS monitor you 24/7 and hire some surgeons and veterinarians to stay in the building 'round the clock." 

"I'm sorry," Steve said, looking ashamed and contrite. "I'll pay for the doctors, Tony, this isn't something you are responsible for." 

Mr. Stark's sharp look at Peter was almost a glare. "Maybe you guys have taken this too far. If I need to engineer a supercondom or something to make sure this doesn't happen again I will, but your mutations have started driving everything off the rails." 

* * *

When Peter and Steve were in a good place emotionally, Peter would taunt Steve about being a pregnant bitch. Steve would look at Peter's cock hungrily, and Peter would withhold it until Steve was crying and begging, his clit stiff with what Peter called a shameboner at his humiliation. 

"You're already stuffed with puppies. Why do you want my dick, too?" 

"Please, Peter! I wanna choke on it and earn your cum." 

"Does your tummy even have room for it?" Peter would taunt him. 

"Yes! I can take as many loads as you can give me, I swear! Please!" Steve wailed. 

"But do I want to stick my cock in you? What are you, Steve?" 

"I'm a... a... dog slut. A knot whore," Steve would cry out between sobs and sniffles. "A stupid cum-dump who got knocked up with puppies." 

"Oh, poor baby," Peter would croon meanly. "So hungry for cum you begged a dog for some. So stupid you got knocked up and bred like a bitch." 

"I'm a horny knot-bitch," Steve would agree, hiding his face. 

"Well, this is a human dick, slut. Would you suck it even if it might put more babies in your belly?" 

"Yes," Steve said, his face red. "Even if." 

"Beg me to give you more babies, Steve," Peter demanded, holding his rampant pole in both hands. Steve was unable to take his gaze away from the glistening head as he licked his lips. 

"Please," Steve said, "Put more babies in me. I need your cum to make me bigger." 

Steve's moan when Peter slid his shlong into his throat almost made Peter cum right then. 

* * *

Eventually all the weird sex stopped. Steve was tired from the pregnancy, and even with Peter's cum he struggled to intake enough calories to offset the puppies' demands. He began to lose a lot of his fat even as his stomach grew huge, round, and full. Even his breastmilk dried up. 

Steve was thankful, and Peter thankful and scientifically intrigued, with how Steve's skin seemed to regenerate as he lost the weight on his face, arms, chest, ass, and legs. He wasn't a sloppy obese man any more after four weeks. After six weeks, Steve could have been back to his Captain America dimensions except for the enormous pregnancy belly. 

Steve was increasingly anxious as his body changed. He would need cuddles and Peter's reassurances that he still loved him practically every night. As his center of gravity shifted, he was more reluctant to move around the apartment. They were both afraid of how large the puppies were going to grow. He spent more time in bed, groaning and cradling as much of his belly as he could. There were odd noises and movements coming from the huge bump all the time and Steve was constantly uncomfortable and sometimes just lay in his side with tears dripping onto his pillow. 

Peter consoled him the best he could, but they were relieved when an obstetrician (for humans) and a veterinarian decided the puppies were developmentally advanced to be surgically birthed. They set up one of the sterile labs as an OR. Peter held Steve's hand in the moments before the sedative was given. "Do you want to see the puppies after they're born?" He asked. 

Steve shook his head. "I thought about it and decided I don't want to. I think Lockjaw's just going to take them away anyway. And I don't have any milk to give them, so I wouldn't be any help feeding them." He looked sad but not devastated. 

Peter kissed him on his forehead. "When you wake up it'll just be you and me again."


	13. P/S, T/S, S/MCs. Daddy kink, weight gain, glory hole, stuck in a wall, fetish clothing, dehumanization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve chooses to be used anonymously by different men.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can an ass be called a glory hole or is that just anonymous mouths hidden on the other side of a hole in a wall? I'm putting Steve in a wall, basically, so he's used as an anonymous hole so I'm just going with that.

After Steve's repeated rendezvous with Lockjaw, Peter had an idea about other improbable cocks Steve's capacious ass could service. He figured Steve would love the idea except for one sticking point: the man was extremely shy unless he was in the throes of erotic humiliation like he had been when Mr. Stark first joined them. 

Luckily he had an engineer he could consult with, and soon they had an apparatus to show Steve to help sell their idea. 

Peter had enjoyed Steve's asshole healing up after he stopped getting bred by the giant dog. He was fucking Steve and started his campaign with the usual dirty talk as he railed Steve who was folded up on their bed. 

"You've been fattening up again, babe," Peter said admiringly. Now that the puppies were gone Peter's cum was giving him back all his lovely curves. He wasn't quite back up to 300 pounds, but his ass, thighs, belly, and tits were getting thicker again. Steve had used the post-pregnancy time to leave the house and check in on friends and acquaintances before he starting growing obese again. 

"You gonna let me make you my fat sex blob again? Good for nothing but fucking?" 

"Mmm," Steve moaned agreeably, his fingers curling around the headboard. 

"You wanna be my fat slut of a cum dump?" Peter pressed. 

"Yeah, Daddy," Steve groaned. His little dickie had been locked back up for a week, and his lover had promised that once he had called Pete 

"Daddy" two thousand times (JARVIS was counting) he could get it off and then get off. It still made Steve blush to say it when not in the midst of passion. 

"Remember how you were before you were a dog's bitch? Milky and fat and always unsatisfied and hungry for cock? I got an idea to put you to work that you'll love." 

After Peter came and Steve was sniffling and wiping sad little trickles of fluid from his cock cage and its little bell, they cuddled. 

"What do you mean about 'putting me to work?'" Steve asked. 

"Clean up and I'll show you," Peter said. After a quick shower he dressed Steve in a frilly pink nightgown and they took the elevator down to the floor where Steve's chair was. In a new room next to it was a new device: a narrow padded tray table with wheels and a thick frame mounted around it. Steve couldn't guess its purpose. 

"What is it?" 

"Put your belly on the table," Peter said. Steve did, and found himself held up by his legs and a shelf under his middle to help take his weight. It was a lot like being folded over the back of their couch. Peter did something, then the frame around the table unfolded, creating a wall that locked into the floor, walls, and ceiling. Steve was stuck with his legs and ass in front of Peter and his arms and head on the other side. 

"You're a glory hole now," Peter said, smacking Steve's cheeks. Steve could hear his voice through the wall. The shame of being an immobilized anonymous fuck hole made Steve moan and fist his hands uselessly against nothing. "I'll be back in a bit, but yell to JARVIS if you need to get out. I will add another 500 'daddy's to the list, though. 

Steve squirmed in exquisite embarrassment. The table could move about half a foot on its wheels either front or back, with the wall flexing to accommodate the movement. Peter could really bone him hard and Steve would be forced to take everything. 

Steve's vagina now secreted fluid when he was turned on. If he was turned on long enough before getting anything put inside of him the fluid worked itself far down enough to lube his rectum and drip out his ass. He could feel the slick moistening his insides as he squirmed. His back and legs started to get a little sore, but the table could take his weight easily. He couldn't do anything with his shoulders, neck, or arms, though-- there wasn't enough of a shelf to rest them on and he either had to hold them up stiffly or let everything dangle limply. 

He wondered how long Peter had been gone. Maybe 30 minutes? His boob sweat was seeping through his nightie and making it stick uncomfortably. 

A sudden finger in his cunt made him squeal in shock. His face flamed, and he hoped it was Pete back there. 

The person didn't say anything, just fingered Steve open easily then stuck his dick into him. Steve's face was hot but there was a lump of ice in his belly because _that was not Peter's cock._

The man fucking him went at it whole hog, slapping Steve's flanks and making the entire apparatus move. Steve was rocked back and forth in jolts with the man's thrusts, or was sometimes hauled on and off his cock while the stranger stood still. It went on long enough that Steve just let his head and arms hang and sway with the movements. Despite his concern about who was behind him, Steve was incredibly turned on and couldn't stifle all his moans of pleasure at being used. 

Eventually the man came with a long groan. Steve recognized the groan as Tony's and was relieved. Peter came in through a hidden door in front of him and tenderly wiped the sweat off his face. 

"Mr. Stark and I could invite anyone in to use you and they wouldn't have an idea of who they were fucking. All they would know was that it's a big-assed slut that used to be a man before her penis became a clitty," Peter cooed condescendingly. "We could put up a billboard in Times Square with a photo and no one in the world besides the three of us would know that was you stuck in a wall waiting to be reamed by anyone with a cock." 

Steve bit his lip and shuddered with intense erotic humiliation. 

"Mr. Stark and I were thinking that you could perform a niche service to some men who require... special accommodations to have sex. Remember who I told you was Sparky's owner? Well, he hasn't gotten to stick his rocky dick into anyone since he changed. You think you could take The Thing's cock, princess?" 

Steve's mind was hazy, but he nodded. 

"We'll have to use some serious lube to make sure there isn't chafing, or else I bet it could leave your entire insides raw," Peter mused out loud. "And your old teammate The Hulk. I've seen the club he swings, have you? How'd you like him to smash you? Would you do it?" 

Steve nodded again, but Peter's hard gaze didn't soften until he said, "Yes, Daddy, I would do it." 

"Well let's get you out of this thing and back up to bed. We can discus this seriously in the morning." 

Peter and Tony had to take Steve's arms as he nearly fell during his first wobbling steps away from the apparatus. 

Steve was concerned that Tony would be weird after fucking him for the first time. "Did Tony only use me today because he couldn't see my face?" Steve asked when they were alone in the elevator. 

Peter shrugged. "Maybe. This was the first time I offered him the chance to fuck your pussy, though. I know the three of us are in a weird sexual relationship, but Mr. Stark and I are trying to keep some boundaries. I know I don't want to watch him fuck anything, but you're attracted to him and he's attracted to you, so if you want you can work out something between you two." 

Steve shook his head. "I like how he helps you humiliate me, and he's nice to help us figure out the weird stuff, but his dick doesn't compare at all with yours." 

* * *

The afternoon Ben Grimm was scheduled to show up, Peter made sure Steve was entirely hairless on his lower half. Steve blushed as his boyfriend ran his hands all over him to check for stubble. Next, they tucked Steve's balls inside of himself and used some special glue to keep them hidden. "Mr. Grimm is straight," Peter reminded him. "But with you bent over in backless panties he shouldn't see your baby dick." It was still in its cage, but the bell had been removed for the day. 

Down in the room off of Tony's shop, Peter helped Steve adjust the straps of the panties and then removed his robe and had Steve position himself on the table. After lacing Steve's feet into pink ballerina boots, Peter and Tony had to recalibrate the height of the table. The boots forced Steve to stand on his tiptoes, giving him very little surface area to balance on and an extra 6 inches or so of height from the floor. 

As the wall unfolded around him, Steve saw there was an addition to the side of the room his head was in: a mirror about a yard away from his nose that was going to give him a front row view of his own face while he got fucked by someone he had never met. 

Steve felt the door behind him open and when it didn't close his heart rate started speeding up. Peter came in and crouched in front of him. "Your hair's getting shaggy," he said with a smirk, and then he slid a headband onto Steve to keep his hair off his face. "I don't want anything to get in the way of your view," he explained. He pulled something else from his pocket. "Just some other stuff to get you in the mood." Nipple clamps were clipped onto his teats-- they had lost most of their fleshiness during the pregnancy, but were still pointy protuberances if he wore a shirt without a bra. 

"One more thing," Peter said. "Actually, two. I wanted to double check to make sure that you don't want me in here with you." 

Steve nodded. "You'll be watching, though, right?" 

"Right," Pete said, pointing at three cameras set up for different views. "But also, gag. Ball, penis, or panel?" Steve chose the ball gag and Peter grinned evilly on his way out the door. "You're gonna look so slutty moaning and drooling while a stranger fucks you!" 

Steve could already feel the strain in his bag and legs. He took his weight off his feet to make sure the apparatus could hold him; he wasn't going to be able to keep his footing in these ridiculous fetish boots for very long. 

Everything held, but Steve knew he was going to be jolted and jostled uncomfortably when his feet slipped and a dick was all that kept his hips up and his stomach was taking all of his weight. 

Peter came back to put on the gag. "He's in the building. I'm gonna go lube you up again to be sure, then he'll come in. You know what to do if you need to tap out. Ready?" 

Steve felt a fluttering war in his chest of panic and excitement, but he nodded. He trusted Peter and Tony. His lover gave him a peck on the nose and then left him to stare at himself in the mirror. He was already red-faced and beginning to dribble around the gag. 

Peter's practiced hands slathered his hole with more medical-grade lubricant, and he punched his fist deep inside for good measure. Steve groaned and felt his entire tunnel try to clench hard to keep his lover's arm in, but it slipped out and Peter left the room behind Steve, leaving the door open again, Steve surmised by the small air currents. 

He soon heard voices coming closer. Tony, and a deeper, rockier masculine voice. 

"...to talk to her? I mean, him?" The stranger was saying. 

"Only if you want to. She's flexible on pronouns, but calling her things like 'nasty slut' will really get her going. Of course you don't need to," Tony added. "She'll get off on being used like an object of you ignore her, so either way... whatever you're comfortable with. And here you are. Towel, lube, bottle a' water. Have fun!" 

Tony closed the door and Steve's ass was left with someone Steve had never talked to and had only a fuzzy mental image of. He was frozen, all of his senses alert, for several long and silent minutes. He jumped when something hard and rough touched his ass. 

"Sorry," the voice said. The man seemed uncomfortable, so Steve pushed back as much as he could in encouragement. Large fingers pushed inside and the man gave considering and then impressed noises. Steve could hear the sound of lube and then something huge started pressing against his cunt. 

When the bulbous head of it popped in both men groaned. "Fuck, no one's taken my dick in years!" The man said to himself, but Steve heard it anyway and felt non-sexual pleasure at being able to do this for him. When the entire rocky cock was inside of him the man paused. "I guess, uh, give me a kick if it gets too rough for ya? I pro'ly won't last long, though." 

Steve felt like he was being impaled by a fire hydrant. It fit, but there were some corners that shouldn't belong on a human dick. It was hard and inflexible, and Steve had no idea how it was physically possible for someone to be alive and able to sense anything through skin like that. 

Ben Grimm started thrusting, and on the third or fourth one large hands lifted his anonymous partner's hips up for a better angle, leaving her toes dangling inches from the floor. When his fuckdoll made no movements to convey displeasure, Ben started to move move vigorously. He slid one hand under her pelvis to feel the bulge of his enormous dick through her skin. He could see her back muscles tighten when she got a big stab of pleasure or pain (and Ben was starting to not care which one the slut was reacting to). He roared when he came, his rocky stones pulling up to give force to his ejaculation, and the aftershocks shuddered through him for a long time. 

Steve watched his own face as he got fucked. He was pink and sweaty and he could see himself flinch with discomfort or roll his eyes and flutter his lashes when his prostate was hit the right way. Sweat rolled down his forehead and dripped off his nose while drool did the same from his chin. His breath was wheezing through his nose and a hole through the gag, and his shoulders sometimes jolted with the force his body was taking as the table rolled back and forth. He look debauched and horny and tearful at the denial of an ejaculation of his own. 

When Ben pulled out he looked at the ruined hole. It was a gaping cavern of irritated red and pink flesh slimed up with lube and jizz surrounded by fat cheeks and a dark blue backless panties. Ben rubbed a finger along the crotch of the panties and watched the living glory hole squirm and try to hump down against it. There was a patch of dampness at the front, but by the inflexible smoothness underneath this was a man wearing something on his dick. Ben didn't think much about its sex, though he was happy not to have seen balls swinging as he fucked it. 

Steve went boneless and let his lower half slump when the stranger stopped holding him up. The angle of the table and wall around him pushed into him uncomfortably, but that discomfort was eclipsed by the rawness of the thorough reaming his pussy had just received. He knew he would heal fast and be good by the next day, but his insides felt like so much tenderized meat at the moment. He drifted until he felt more gentle hands prodding at his ass. 

"No tearing or bleeding " Peter said. "I've got some stuff that should numb some of the pain, but you should be fine in an hour or two." He assisted Steve onto his feet and tenderly washed and treated his boyfriend's ass. With a slap on a thigh, Peter let the apparatus fold up and walked around to Steve's head when it was clear. "How was it?" When the gag had been pulled away Steve could only slur, "Good." 

* * *

The next "client" was nobody Steve had heard of, and when he asked Peter what his mutations were, Peter just grinned. 

It was the same tableau as last time: Steve in the backless panties with his balls tucked and wearing the ballerina boots that he hated. ("I love it when you can't even walk, baby!" Peter said. "Even when you stand still in them your ass looks so perky!") 

This time, after he was prepped, Peter put a bulky collar on Steve's neck and put a remote control in his right hand. Steve was already gagged with the ball gag, but Peter caught his quizzical look and explained. "There are two buttons: the top one is for when you're feeling good and the bottom one is for when you need him to go easier on you. Or is it the other way 'round? Whoops!" Stave gave his lover a half-hearted glare as Pete laughed. "He requested some vocal feedback, so Tony programmed some auto responses for you to use that should preserve your anonymity as well as hit your John's buttons." 

Steve watched Peter leave the room. He knew the buttons were a set-up that were going to add even more humiliation to the situation, but that thought only made his slutty clit twitch and drip. 

The man who joined him was large, with smooth, hard, chilly non-skin. His cock was huge and unusually smooth-- the opposite of Grimm's. Steve heard some mumbling in Russian and pushed the top button, hoping that it would be the right response. His collar has a speaker that blared out something in Russian that was recorded in the breathiest, sluttiest feminine voice imaginable, and Steve didn't have to understand the words to blush and clench his eyes shut in shame that the man fucking him thought that was coming from him. 

The response seemed to do the trick, and the improbable penis pounding into him started penetrating Steve at a harder and faster pace. Steve pressed the button again to hear the voice say something else he was sure was equally humiliating, and the man growled something back and hefted Steve's hips up to an angle that made his steely cock fucking into him deeper. 

Steve's cries and grunts as the air was fucked out of him were muffled by the gag, but he could hear the entire apparatus rattle at the force the stranger was using. Steve's reflection showed him the tears the unstoppable force ramming into him was causing, and the toy gave up feeling the distinction between pain and pleasure and just let itself be used, its fingers reflexively squeezing buttons to make random whorish noises. It had no feelings, no face, no legs; it was just a fuckhole being as thoroughly and thoughtlessly used as it deserved. 

Eventually Steve blinked his eyes open and saw Peter leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, managing to look both smug and patronizing. "Wow, he really sent you drifting." He came forward and unbuckled the gag. "What did it for you? His cock?" 

Steve shook his head and managed to lift one arm to indicate the speaker box on his collar. His lover raised his eyebrows. "Huh. Mr. Stark only put that together at Colossus' request. I'll keep that in mind, though."


	14. Bruce/S, med fet, bladder inflation, light caning & cbt, oral, anal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for Steve to stage his erotic encounter with The Hulk- only there are a few surprises. Steve gets to flip the script and do a little humiliating to someone else for a change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If bladder inflation doesn't squick you, Steve voluntarily dislocating his jaw to take Hulk's dick might. I didn't actually physically shape out the dimensions for his dick that I made up, but it certainly wasn't going to fit into Steve's mouth and throat easily.

It took some discussion and convincing, but Steve decided that he would agree to meet Bruce so they could all hash out what they needed to do to satisfy The Hulk. Tony was bringing him up to the apartment that afternoon, and Steve was feeling fat and ugly in sweatpants. He still was nowhere near the size he had been before his pregnancy, but he was obviously not in Captain America shape, and his figure was quite Rubenesque: all soft, round forms of pale, dimpled skin. 

But Bruce, too, had undergone a huge physical transformation. Steve and Peter thought The Hulk stepped through the door for a second before they saw the clothing and glasses. His manner, though, was very Bruce with how he held his shoulders and ducked his head. "I'm still not, ah, used to it yet." 

Steve forgot about his own body issues and welcomed him with a hug. "How did this happen?" 

"We needed to integrate. And it's better now; I don't lose my mind when I have to fight. I tend to crave raw meat, though, but it works." 

"I'm happy for you," Steve said, and was pleased to see the slight fear and shame leave Bruce's face. 

Peter, Steve, Tony, and Bruce made themselves comfortable. 

"So Steve's a slut and wants the Hulk to fuck him," Peter said with a smirk. "What will get you off? Steve has very few limits...." 

* * *

Bruce was anxious. His bulky body was still new and unfamiliar and he was self-conscious. The nurse had shown him in to the exam room and he was waiting for his first physical exam as The Hulk. 

The door opened and the doctor entered. "Mr. Banner, we've waited a long time to be able to examine The Hulk. Clothes off, please." Bruce looked at the open door but the doctor made no move to close it, just smirked. "Your giant green ass has already been on TV, so I see no reason for privacy." 

Obediently Bruce stood up and started to remove his clothes. They were specially made for him, and he carefully folded them and set them aside. 

"Measurements, first. Nurse?" 

The female nurse came in with a long, flexible measuring tape. The doctor took numbers for the girth of several body parts including chest, stomach, hips, thigh, and bicep. The nurse noted them down. 

"Now the one number everyone's been curious about," the doctor said, holding one end of the tape to the base of Bruce's dick. "Hmm... fifteen inches long. I'm rather disappointed, Mr. Banner. Maybe it'll get bigger if it's harder? Nurse, please retrieve the stimulation sleeve." The doctor put on white latex gloves and put a large pump bottle of lubricant within convenient reach. The doctor was handed a large, stiff silicone tube which he greased up inside and then handed back to the nurse while he switched to a clean pair of gloves. He pulled a wheeled stool from a corner with his foot and sat down on it right in front of Bruce. The doctor held the tube firmly and slipped it over the head of Bruce's cock. "Try not to thrust, Mr. Banner, I've seen how much damage thay body can do. In fact, Nurse Claire, could you please take that yardstick and be prepared to... provide some punishment in case the patient forgets himself." 

The nurse wielded a sturdy-looking yardstick and moved next to Bruce with no hesitation. "Feel free to strike him on his testicles if the buttocks aren't enough to discourage him," the doctor ordered. 

Bruce winced, but found himself already growing hard even before the doctor gripped the outside of the silicone sleeve with both hands. 

"Let me do the work, please," he ordered, not even trying to make a polite fiction of caring about Bruce's opinion. 

The doctor worked the large green penis to hardness and Bruce was surprised when a sharp _smack_ burned across his bottom. "No moving," the doctor reminded him, pulling his hands away to look at him sternly. Bruce blushed and nodded and then the doctor resumed the procedure. A harder strike a moment later made him jolt in surprise. 

The doctor wheeled his stool back and gave him something close to a glare. "Mr. Banner, can you not follow directions? Widen your stance. The next body part the nurse will hit is your sac." 

The procedure resumed and Bruce carefully controlled his body and was soon just on the edge of coming when the doctor pulled the sleeve off and retrieved the measuring tape. "Eighteen inches long and... nine inches in circumference. I still expected more. Hmm." He dropped the tape on a tray disposed of his gloves. "Nurse, there's no need for him to still be stimulated. Give him a whack." 

"No, plea-" Bruce was cut off by a firey sting across his balls. He yelped and clutched his genitals, bending over to instinctively shield them from more pain. 

"Okay, measurements done," the doctor murmured to himself looking over his notes on a clipboard. "Next is... bladder capacity." He turned to Bruce and began to talk, ignoring his crumpled-up position. "Your physiology is entirely unknown, Mr. Banner. Your body seems to be immune to all non-invasive methods of determining your internal organ size and position. I'd like to ensure that you have... traditional human plumbing, if you will." He flicked some switches on a wall and the normal examination table reconfigured into a Hulk-sized reclining chair with padding and restraints. "Take a seat, please." 

Bruce's penis was almost completely deflated and he practically collapsed into the chair, the solid metal restraints locking around his body so that he could barely wiggle. The nurse was preparing a catheter that was much larger than normal, while the doctor was filling a large bag and attaching it to an IV stand. The nurse professionally inserted the catheter into Bruce's slightly sore dick, not even batting an eye at the fact that she was handling a penis of such abnormal size and color. 

"I think we will start with two liters," the doctor said. "Nurse, please prepare another bag; I expect such a large monster will have a large capacity." 

Bruce shuddered as water began to flow through his penis into his body. It was cold, and his gut started cramping immediately. Moans of discomfort pushed out of him. The doctor sighed and stood up, showing his displeasure at Bruce's misbehavior, and pulled a mass of black and silver from a drawer. "We can't have you disturbing the other patients, Mr. Banner. I will have to gag you." The black leather was a muzzle gag which was strapped over Bruce's mouth and chin and tightened using various straps, including ones that went over his head so that he couldn't part his jaw. 

Bruce was completely helpless now, silenced and held in place while icy water kept filling him up. He squirmed, but the doctor only paid attention to the quickly depleting bag. "Next one, nurse." He disconnected the end of the catheter tube and plugged it into the new bag to continue the flow. Bruce couldn't see his belly noticeably expand at all, but it felt like he should have a sloshing basketball-sized cyst inside of him that was only getting bigger. 

"Four liters," the doctor said. His gloved hands palpitated Bruce's gut as the nurse observed the catheter line. "I didn't expect he would need more. Do you think he can take another bag, Nurse Claire?" She nodded, and went to unwrap a new sterile enema bag and fill it up as well. The doctor started drumming on Bruce's belly and each small slap made him cringe at how the still-chilled liquid seemed to move around inside of him. The new bag was connected and Bruce was forced to endure the process again. By the time a third of the volume had gone up his dick Bruce could see his lower abdomen begin to pooch out. Tears squeezed from his eyes as more and more water filled him and he clamped them shut hoping to distance himself from his overfull body. 

"Six liters," the doctor said. "That's over thirteen pounds of water!" He used his hands to wobble the little mound of bulging tummy but it didn't feel like sloshing inside of Bruce anymore- he felt like a balloon ready to pop, pregnant with an enormous and heavy ball of fluid. He felt the tube in his penis move a bit and then the restraints were being removed and the doctor and nurse were guiding him into a standing position. 

It felt like there was at least three times the weight of thirteen pounds inside of him. The catheter tube had been shortened, and only about six inches emerged from the head of his green dick and the lower end was folded and carefully clipped closed. 

Once he was upright the doctor and nurse removed their hands. "The restroom is down the hall," the doctor said with a mean smirk. 

"Don't force the fluid out," the nurse added, "Be sure to let it drain. Take all the time you need." 

Bruce was too determined to be rid of the water that he didn't care about his nudity as he staggered out into the hallway. The door with a plastic Restroom sign was at the end, he could see it, but it was a good thirty meters away. Each step was a waddle as he walked bowlegged and slowly to try not to agitate the liquid inside of him that felt like it had settled low and heavy at the base of his pelvis. He sweated profusely even though the core of him felt like ice from the coldness of the water. It was as torturous as walking over hot coals and he felt drained except in the only specific way he craved to be emptied when he reached the door to his salvation. 

He was careful to follow the nurse's advice as he unclipped the tube and unfolded the end to let it drain as he held it over the toilet bowl. He leaned against the wall as he shivered and waited for the alien weight inside of him to leave, and flushed five times because he was paranoid of making the water overflow. 

He had trouble maybe three-quarters of the way through, with his penis trying to get erect. The pinch of the catheter inside of his urethra would halt the erection process, it would go flaccid, and then the draining would resume until he started to harden again. The nurse knocked on the door twice and demanded to be let in the second time but left him alone once she saw the problem, just telling him to take his time. 

When he was finally done he didn't know what to do with the catheter tube. It dangled down past his knees and he couldn't find the clip. He washed one hand at a time and then used a paper towel to hold the end up and his journey back up the hallway to the exam room was more humiliating with him aware of his naked body and how he held the tube that came out from his dick like a lady delicately holding up her skirts. 

The chair had returned to its table form and he was instructed to lie on it. It was thankfully study and wide enough to support him, though it was still hard and cold. The nurse removed the catheter and Bruce winced at how sensitive his urethra was as it was pulled out. 

The doctor returned and removed the muzzle gag and Bruce exercised his jaw while the doctor turned away. When he turned back he held an oral thermometer and placed it in Bruce's mouth with the instruction not to talk or part his lips for three minutes or they would have to start the time over. 

"In the meantime," the doctor added, "I'll be doing an examination of your chest." 

Bruce managed to keep his lips closed while the doctor used a stethoscope to listen to his heart and lungs, even though the metal disk was cold. He was not prepared for the ice cube that was suddenly pressed to his left nipple. 

"Nurse, start the time over, please. Mr. Banner, control yourself." The doctor's gloved fingers circled the ice around the green nub before he put it aside and began to palpitate the tender, turgid flesh with his cold latex fingertips. The gentle taps and squeezes turned into crueler pinches when the doctor noticed Bruce's burgeoning erection. "Now is not the time for that, Mr. Banner," the doctor chided patronizingly. He stepped away and pressed a chilly kidney-shaped stainless steel surgical pan to Bruce's cock and Bruce cried out involuntary, which restarted the timer. 

The doctor smoothed out a small piece of latex over the tortured nipple as he explained, "I will need to use my mouth to examine the effects of warmth on your nipple because the heat cannot be hotter than the internal temperature of human body. Of course, we don't know your body temperature yet, Mr. Banner, due to your inability to follow simple directions. I will have to follow protocol for standard human tolerances. I have put down a dental dam, so the process will be entirely sanitary and impersonal." 

With that, the doctor bent over and soothed the lingering chill with his lips and tongue. Bruce thrust his chest up into the sensation, but was careful to keep his mouth clamped shut around the thermometer. 

The doctor's head picked up for a moment to request another ice cube from the nurse, and then assaulted Bruce with more attention from his hot mouth on his left pectoral while his right nipple was bombarded with freezing cold. Bruce's muscles strained to flex and push into or away from the confusing sensations, but the doctor held his shoulders down with a strong arm. 

The nurse eventually called out, "Time," and the doctor straightened to remove the device and read aloud the temperature. "One hundred and three degrees Fahrenheit. I had noticed you seemed to run a few degrees warmer than normal. Anyway, I think I've gained all the information I can from your chest exam. Let's move on to taking a semen sample. I will time you to see how long it takes you to go from flaccid to erect and then time you for how long it takes you to attain release." 

The doctor's dry gloved hand brought Bruce to partial hardness. Someone had cleaned the silicone sleeve and pre-lubricated it. The doctor applied it to Bruce's cock and began to work it. Bruce was just getting into it when all movement and pressure stopped. 

"42 seconds. Not the fastest time, but there is a large volume of blood needed. Now we will measure the time from when I return to stimulating you until you ejaculate." 

The doctor used both hands to squeeze the soft and slippery device around Bruce's dick. His grip was superhumanly strong though his large hands were not able to wrap fully around the shaft and device. He twisted it and put extra pressure on the head of the penis and didn't protest when Bruce started bucking his hips from his prone position to fuck into it. The nurse caught most of his semen in a sample cup. 

"Two minutes, thirteen seconds." The doctor restarted the timer. "Now I will take note on the length of your refractory period. I will have to continue stimulating you until you reach hardness again. It may be uncomfortable for a period of time." 

Bruce tried to pull away from the renewed pressure on his penis but couldn't. The doctor held him down against the with one hand while he kept the sleeve on Bruce's soft dick with the other. It was unfathomable that the man had the strength to pin even part of The Hulk's body in place- especially with one arm! 

"Please pull it off?" Bruce asked. 

"Mr. Banner, would you like Nurse Claire to retrieve the gag?" The doctor said sternly. Bruce shook his head and capitulated, despite the tenderness of his skin. The doctor's grip wasn't too firm, but any pressure at all was almost too much to bear so soon after coming. 

It was a long period of silence, but eventually the doctor said, "Fifteen minutes, nearly to the second." He pulled the device away and Bruce groaned; he didn't get another orgasm after enduring all that discomfort? 

The doctor was removing his gloves and thanking the nurse, who left, closing the door behind her. "Well, Mr. Banner, thank you for letting us examine The Hulk. You are welcome to put your clothes on." 

Bruce sat up and couldn't prevent his hand from reaching down to grab his cock. The doctor noticed and frowned. 

"Mr. Banner, are you incapable of controlling yourself?" 

"C'mon, doc, you can't leave me like this!" 

The doctor looked at him speculatively. "I suppose there are some more tests we can do. If you agree to having me assist you, will you consent to a few more tests? You can't be loud because I am not supposed to continue the exam without a nurse, and Claire has left for the day." 

"Yes," Bruce said. "I can be quiet." 

"Good." The doctor took off his lab coat and hung it on a hook on the door. His chest carried extra weight, and his belly hung over the belt of his khaki slacks. "First test: see if I can take that thick dick down my throat." 

Bruce inhaled harshly at the idea. He thought integrating with The Hulk meant an end to ever receiving oral sex again. He slid off the table as the doctor went to his knees and turned his face up and opened his mouth. The head of his dick could barely get past the doctor's teeth, and the man licked and tested how sensitive the tumescence was to being scraped by the straight, white teeth. None of the doctor's efforts hurt Bruce, so the blond man forced more of the giant green cock into his mouth. It was tantalizing to have the glans of his dick in that wet heat, but no where near enough for Bruce to be satisfied- for the doctor, either, apparently, because the doctor grabbed Bruce's ass and shoved him father into his own face. There was a cracking sound as the doctor's jaw dislocated, but the man just pulled the dick in farther until the tip was at the back of his mouth. 

The oral grasp was tight, and the arcs of teeth pushing into his flesh only added to the intensity of Bruce's pleasure. The man's heaving breaths puffed against the green shaft outside his mouth, and the blond took a deep breath before swallowing and forcing it into his throat like a sword swallower until his nose was buried in the curly black hairs of Bruce's thick thatch of pubic hair. 

The girth of The Hulk's cock made the doctor's throat bulge and his eyes water, but the doctor continued to service Bruce, shoving the cock a few inches back before retaking the entire length multiple times as well as massaging the shaft with his lips, teeth, and tongue until Bruce came with a roar that he muffled with one hand. He slumped back against the exam table as the doctor pulled himself off of the shriveling blunt weapon. The doctor resumed his breathing with hardly a hitch to show that he had spent at least a minute without air, stood up, and walked to the sink to wash his face of the tears that had instinctively ran as he impaled his head. He then clicked his lower jaw back into alignment like it was a task he had done many times before. 

Bruce swore from the lingering intensity of his second orgasm and wiped sweat off of his broad forehead. "I cannot believe you did that," he said. 

"I told you to keep quiet," the man said, pulling his air of professionalism back into place. "If you agree to a third trial, I would like to have that in my ass." 

"Fuck. Yes," Bruce said. "It will take me longer to get hard again." 

The doctor pulled out a new glove and snapped the cuff around his wrist. "Turn over and I will help with that. Might as well see if your body also has a prostate." 

Bruce did, reluctant but eager to sink his dick into the doctor's fat ass. He had always been attracted to large butts, even on men. 

The doctor held one big green butt cheek to the side with one gloved hand, then used a lubed finger to prod at the darker green furl of The Hulk's asshole. The single finger didn't have enough size and force to open up Bruce's anus, but two fingers did, and the doctor pushed them in and flexed them, twisting them around to feel around. His fingertip barely reached a place inside Bruce that weakly sparked up his nervous system. He pulled his hand away. "I am going to need the anal speculum," the doctor murmured. Bruce stood still as he heard a drawer open and close behind him. Soon the fingers were back and they eased in the long, sturdy greased metal prongs of a medical device. The doctor cranked it open, and Bruce felt air flow inside of him unexpectedly deep. He craned his head around and could see the doctor flick on a headlamp attached to a band around his forehead before the blond man bent close to examine the open orifice. 

"There it is. Quite large; I must test the sensitivity." Something smooth and fingerlike but longer was slid into The Hulk's back channel and it pushed firmly against his prostate. Bruce shivered and yelped in surprise at the intensity of the sensation. The doctor reached under him and between his legs to see if Bruce's dick was waking up for more action, but it was still too drained. "Take a firm hold of the table, Mr. Banner," the doctor ordered, before attacking the internal gland mercilessly until Bruce's knees were weak and his breaths heaving in and out in great gasps. 

"Enough," Bruce exclaimed, quietly but intently once his cock had started to get stiff for the umpteenth time that day. The doctor thankfully pulled everything out and Bruce circled in place to he could see what the doctor was doing next. 

He had put the speculum and prod in the sink and was removing the gloves. Once he was ungloved he reached for his own belt, unbuckled it, and pulled it from its place around his hips. He then pulled his shirt over his head and bashfully glanced at Bruce before he toed off his loafers and unzipped his khakis. The bulge of his dick was small, but it had leaked through the satiny red panties he had under his trousers. He shyly pushed them down to reveal an adorable little dick less that two inches long that hardly protruded from his hairless groin and scrotum. He kicked off the last of his clothing then turned around to treat his patient to the wide base of a sex toy lodged between his thick, pale, dimpled cheeks. They jiggled as he bent over and reached for the plug to remove it. 

Bruce stopped him and used his own giant hands to remove the toy. It was more than a plug, it was a dildo so long and thick that Bruce didn't know how the doctor had managed to conduct the exam with it inside of him. He let the blond finger and lubricate himself while he watched until he couldn't hold back. He pushed the man against the counter and shoved his cock into that gaping tunnel. 

Steve cried out as his insides were impaled with another enormous, mutated dick. This time he knew the man it was attached to, and that fondness for Bruce only made Steve feel sluttier. He reached around behind him but could only grip the side of Hulk's thigh to encourage him to fuck into him harder and faster. Bruce responded by picking Steve up by his hips and shoving him back against his broad green body. Steve swore quietly because he was nearly breathless, and bore down to take The Hulk to the hilt. Bruce made Steve ride his dick without any leverage; Steve was just bounced up and down like a doll without any footing or handholds. The immense penis shoved up inside of him and forced his body to make room, his prostate squeezed relentlessly, and Steve came without any time or ability to delay it, his little dickie spewing its fluids in four pathetically weak spurts as he made a long, drawn-out, incoherent noise. 

Reaching his third climax in just under one and a half hours was going to take some time, so Bruce pounded away for nearly twenty minutes as Steve flopped bonelessly and drooled with a vacant expression as his ability to think had been fucked out out of him in the first quarter of the stretch. Finally The Hulk felt his balls nearly pull inside as he came with intense force. He wrapped his arms around the chubby senseless fuckdoll still attached to him and leaned his side against the closed door as he waited for his body to calm down. 

Bruce recovered before Steve did, so he pulled the blond off his overworked penis and laid him down on the exam table. As soon as Steve's eyes tracked Bruce's finger, he batted the green hand away from his face and yawned. "'M fine," he slurred tiredly. "Jus' exhaus'd." His eyes closed but he wiggled his fingers to make grabby hands at Bruce's face. When Bruce tentatively put his face in touching distance Steve pulled him down to kiss him. "Been wantin' to do that since you came in." 

"I couldn't tell. You were a good actor." 

"Eh, two stars outta five," another voice added, making Bruce roll his eyes and Steve swat listlessly at the air. 

"You only had audio, Tony," Bruce said. "What was the nurse's opinion?" 

"She said he consulted her and followed her expert advice better than any real doctor she worked with, so that was a fail on realism." 

"Well, I, at least, am happy that Steve followed the advice from a registered nurse when it came to doing medical things to my body. I know I'm The Hulk, but no non-professional should do potentially harmful things." 

"Eh, you're just a wet blanket," Tony said. "You should watch what we're gonna put Steve through next. And we won't have any professionals around."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As with the armorer several chapters back, the nurse is canon. (Congrats if you caught that! If you didn't it's fine- you just have more room in your brain for important stuff.) I don't know much about her character, but she seems like she would think doing this scene is a waste or her time. Luckily Tony is happy to throw money around to professionals.


	15. C/S, pony play, dehumanization, bondage, light whipping, sex toys, urination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve had agreed to do animal play. He hadn't known he should have specifically agreed to do it _inside_.
> 
> (A few more friends show up and get involved.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder that I am making shit up. Some devices and practices are imaginary and maybe not thought through too well. This is entirely porn for the sake of porn with hopefully some redeeming humorous dialogue. I've appreciated that no one has complained at all about this fic; I definitely tried to screen out all the non-perverts looking for a reasonable and gentle story.

Steve had agreed to do animal play. He hadn't known he should have specifically agreed to do it _inside_. He had figured it would just be dog or cat play. But _of course_ Stark had a country estate with a stable.  


It was unexpected and intimidating, but he was intrigued.  


Tony had driven himself and Steve out to the place. It was rural, with a modest house and barn. Peter met them in front of the barn.  


"Got my new stallion, Mr. Stark?"  


"Yup. He's ready to be broken in."  


Steve exited the car and stood next to it trembling, already turned on at how they were ignoring him. Tony put a bridle over his head and a hard rubber bit was pushed between his teeth making it impossible for Steve to talk or close his lips. Reins were clipped on, and Steve was lead by his head into the barn.  


"Reins over that hook," Peter ordered, and Tony looped the leather over a hook hanging by a heavy chain from a high beam.  


"Strip him down," Peter said, and Tony took a large pair of scissors from him and cut off Steve's clothes. When he finished by pulling off Steve's shoes and socks, Steve's erection was at its modest full mast. "Time to cool him off," Peter said, and Steve was blasted with water from a hose.  


The cool water dampened his boner but it returned as both Tony and Peter toweled him down. Steve's arms were pulled behind him and his wrists cuffed. His feet were put into extremely heavy hoof-shaped black boots. They had metal horse shoes on the soles, and were heel-less, so Steve was stuck with keeping his weight on his toes. A wide leather harness was buckled around his ribcage, thankfully not tightly. A horsetail butt plug was put into his ass and there were some straps around his waist and thighs to keep it in place.  


"I have a trainer," Peter told Tony. "He should be waiting out in the paddock."  


Steve would have been troubled to hear that there was another person to witness his humiliation, but he was too focused on not falling as he walked behind Peter who lead him with the reins through the back of the barn and out into a covered pen with sandy ground.  


He was surprised to see Clint there, dressed in old jeans, cowboy boots, and a faded T-shirt. Clint kept a straight face and didn't do more than casually look Steve head to toe and then back again. "Mind if I get a sense of his muscles?" Clint asked Pete. When he received a nod, Clint's rough hands stroked up his legs and then firmly pushed against the fat of Steve's buttocks, belly, and chest. "Are you sure he's a stallion?" Clint asked as he backed off. Steve was mortified because having his friend's hands all over him had made his little dickie hard again. When Peter nodded Clint remarked, "I hope you weren't planning on leasing him for stud duty. That's the smallest horse dick I've ever seen; wouldn't even fit into a cunt far enough for breeding. Well, let's put him through his paces."  


Steve had to learn how to move in the unwieldy boots pretty fast- pun intended. Clint replaced the reins with a long leash and had Steve walk then run then run faster around him in circles for a long time, correcting his errors and making him pick up his pace by using a whip on Steve's lower back and ass. The plug in his hole jolted as he moved, and Steve's dick was stiff pretty much the entire time. It was nearly an hour of exercise by the time Clint let Steve take his pace back down to a walk to cool down.  


"He might do," Clint said as he handed control over Steve's harness back to Peter. "We need to have him work off a lot of that extra weight."  


Peter and Clint let Steve drink from a bucket before they took him into the barn again and wiped him down with towels. Tony called out from the house that dinner was ready and Steve had expected to go inside with his friends. Instead, Peter clipped his reins to a small hook on the wall of a stall and pet his hair. "You'll get your dinner once we've had ours. Stay here." He pointed a wall-mounted camera, "We'll keep an eye on you. If you're a good boy you'll get a treat."  


Steve could only stand in place and try to blink away tears as they left, even though his traitorous cocklet was happy about being left outside like a real animal while his three friends went inside to enjoy a meal together. He was tired from the exercise; he hadn't moved like that since he gave up the shield, but his body was still enhanced enough that standing still wasn't a hard task. It was just boring and lonely. Even out of shape he could break the reins and the hook, but he wanted to obey Peter's instructions and be a good boy.  


It was a warm summer evening, in the low 80s he reckoned, and he continued to perspire lightly as he waited. It wasn't quite sunset when he heard someone come back into the barn, but the light had definitely changed.  


It was Peter. He warned Steve not to talk unless he was safewording out and then removed the bridle and bit. "Some warm mash," Peter said with a smirk as he put a bucket of "food" on the floor. "Oatmeal. Don't worry, it's not too hot. I put some diced apple in there because you earned your treat. Dig in."  


Steve didn't know how to. Clint had held the water bucket up earlier, but this one was just on the floor of the stall. Peter had leaned against the wall and crossed his arms and was watching Steve try to decide what to do with amusement; he wasn't likely to help. Steve awkwardly managed to get on his knees, which was difficult with the hoof shoes and his arms still cuffed behind him. Then he tentatively put his head into the bucket to get partial mouthfuls of lukewarm oatmeal.  


He couldn't scrape the bucket clean, though he would've had he been able. There was quite a bit left in there that he couldn't reach with his chin and tongue. Peter took the bucket and filled it with water then brought it back into Steve's stall.  


Looking at the water reminded Steve that he needed to piss. He blushed, and could only think to clench his knees together and bounce a little bit to communicate his need non-verbally and without hands to gesture.  


Pete just cocked his head. "You've got hay. You're gonna sleep in it, too, so I would pick a corner. Clint will muck it out in the morning.  


Steve couldn't believe it. Peter knew that he had hang-ups about urinating. But Pete just shrugged. "You can wait until you're alone. I just need to untack you for the night."  


Apparently that meant removing the chest harness, shoes, cuffs, tail and harness. Peter put them into a box outside of the stall then tossed a blanket in. "If you leave your stall at any time during the night, you will be punished and we will put a lock on the door." He brushed off his stern demeanor to pat Steve's hair and kiss his forehead. "Goodnight. Be a good horse, and I'll see you bright and early in the morning!"  


Steve watched the stall door close and then listened to the barn doors being shut. He stood there stunned. He was being left here, alone, for the entire night? His dick didn't respond to the conflicted arousal in him because he needed to piss so bad. Steve finally kicked some hay into a pile in one corner and eventually peed onto it, wrinkling his nose at how the smelll was going to linger.  


It was too warm for the thick blanket, so Steve put it over a pile of hay and it made a decent buffer between his tired and frustrated body and the cement floor. He lay there as the barn grew darker and darker. There were screened windows Clint and Peter had left unshuttered, so he could hear the crickets. The barn even had two skylights on either side of the vaulted ceiling so Steve had a glimpse of the stars. He gradually let go of his anger and relaxed. By the time it was full night he had calmed down except for his hard nub which found being treated like livestock exciting. Steve caved and rubbed one out before he went to sleep.  


Peter and Clint woke him up early. They had another bucket of oatmeal, this time sweetened with some brown sugar, and made Steve eat and drink before they put the bridle on and led him from his stall. As Peter put the hoof boots, chest harness, tail, and cuffs back on, Clint gave him a quick examination and massaged some muscles that had knotted with tension or spending the night not on a real bed. Steve got aroused and was mortified when Clint commented, "That tiny pecker's misbehavin'."  


"I've got a solution," Peter said, and he went and picked up the hose. Steve had the rubber bit in his mouth and could only make an equine-like squeal as he cringed away from his lover. Peter sadistically blasted his crotch with the cold water then put his familiar plastic cock cage on his dick. There was a different bell on it; instead of the usual little jingle bell, there was a larger cowbell the width of his scrotum and about three inches long. Every movement Steve made made it ring and he hung his head and cried at the indignity.  


"That should help," Clint said. "Let's get him to the pen for more gait training."  


Steve walked and ran in circles again. This time he didn't have the shame and discomfort of running with his tiny boner; instead his genitals were weighed down with the bell as it clanged jauntily with his movements. After making sure Steve knew the difference between trot, canter, and run, Clint let him walk his heart rate down and then gathered the lunge rope in his hands as he stepped closer. When his hand was gripping the strap over Steve's left cheek he held a carrot in front of Steve's face. "No biting," he said sternly before he unclipped the bit and freed Steve's mouth. Steve stood patiently, sweating and breathing hard, until Clint nudged the carrot into his mouth. He ate it while Clint said, "There's a good horse," and his cocklet tried its hardest to overcome the contraint of its cage.  


When the carrot was gone Clint put the bit back in place and let Peter clip on the usual reins and lead him from the sandy paddock. He got a quick wipe down and a drink before Peter uncuffed his wrists and led him through a gate and into an orchard of trees where they sat in the grass. Peter combed his fingers through Steve's hair and played with his tail, often making the plug move inside Steve's body. Peter hummed occasionally but didn't say a word. Steve managed to calm down and lay his head on Pete's lap and doze off for a bit.  


Steve was led back to the barn and all of his tack checked to make sure it was back in place then he had to stand still while Peter and Clint started slathering his entire body with sunscreen. This made Steve a bit anxious and he found himself shifting from hoof to hoof like a real horse which made his friends comment and snicker while Steve blushed.  
Tony came out into the barn with a paper bag and a small cooler. "Time for me and Steve to have some quality time. Steve: what kind of a horse name is that? It's not. I'm gonna call him... Buttercup. On account of his golden hair."  


Steve didn't appreciate his teasing but could only glare at Tony. Tony grinned and said, "Where's the riding crop? I might need it."  


"I'll make sure it's ready," Clint said, and he left the barn.  


After being greased up, Peter put a padded leather cuff on each of Steve's wrists next to the handcuffs that were already there. He then led Steve through the front door of the barn and Steve balked when he saw that there was a cart in the driveway that he was obviously expected to pull.  


"You can do it, buddy," Peter said, "You're a big strong boy."  


Steve didn't know why he fought so hard to stay out from the cart's front poles. It wasn't panic- he didn't even think about making the sign that worked as a safeword when he wasn't able to speak. It was more of a feeling of frustration that his dick had led him to being in this situation. The vast majority of people don't have their partners and friends make them act like a horse because they got off on it!  


It was Clint who convinced him. "Steve, it'll be a short jog and the cart is very light. No one will see you. You'll take Tony out for a bit because this is the only way we could convince him to go out into nature for once in his life. He'll be a dick, but you're used to it. Just take him out, have a snack, then come back. Can you do that?"  


Clint's short monologue made Steve calm down and he nodded. He let Clint and Pete undo the handcuffs and attach the leather cuffs to the cart poles while Tony put the bag and cooler into the cart before he got himself into the seat.  


"You know how to use the reins, right?" Clint asked.  


"Right, left, back, and smack," Tony replied.  


"Let's run through the signals for Steve, then," Clint said.  


When Tony tugged the left rein, Steve's head turned left and he was supposed to go left. Vice versa with the right. Tony pulled back gently to signal Steve to slow or stop, and then flicked them and whistled when Steve was supposed to start walking or move faster.  


"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure he gets it," Tony said impatiently. "He might be a soldier, but even they are generally smarter than farm animals."  


Peter made a face at Tony and then patted Steve's head. "I know Tony will make it difficult, but try to enjoy the run."  


Tony whistled obnoxiously loud. "C'mon Buttercup! Let's get a move on!"  


Steve rolled his eyes but began walking. They started down the driveway for awhile before veering off onto a trail that looked like it was regularly used by a 4x4 utility quad. It was pretty easy to run with the cart on it, and Steve took a bit of mean enjoyment making sure the cart bounced over certain spots and making Tony complain. He usually got a swat on the ass for that with the crop, but Tony was much gentler than Peter, so it wasn't much of a deterrent to Steve.  


Tony reined him to a stop in a meadow and got off the cart and stood in front of Steve. "It I have splinters in my ass because of your shenanigans I'm going to make sure it's your boyfriend who will pull them out. He's still an intern; I'm sure we can find something in his job description that we can use to justify it. Now are you going to behave? If you leave me here I will die. I have no wilderness survival skills."  


This time, Steve's eye roll was more about his fondness for his friend's tendency to always joke than annoyance. Tony pretended that he was devastated by Steve's silent patronizing.  


"I did bring some treats for you, Buttercup, but keep up the attitude and I'll keep your snacks for myself."  


Tony did let Steve loose from the cart and also took off the bridle. "You want the boots off, too?" He asked. Steve shook his head because he wasn't sure he would put them on again if they were removed now. "Well, let's sit in the shade of the big tree, I guess. That's what the country folks do, right?" He carried the containers over and sat down. Steve sat down a little more carefully, not wanting to get sticks stabbing into his vulnerable areas.  


Tony pulled out a thermos from the paper bag and handed it to Steve. "Don't tell the horse whisperers," he said, and Steve opened the top and got a whiff of coffee and grinned. "That oatmeal was a nasty trick," Tony grumbled, his words and actions making Steve well up with gratitude for his friend. This softness in Tony always surprised Steve even after the years they had known each other. His abrasive persona was such an ingrained defense mechanism that it was often hard to remember how thoughtful he could be.  


"Thanks," Steve dared to say.  


Tony unwrapped a sandwich and opened a can of beer. They were quiet for a bit before he said, "Everything's all right, right? You and Parker?"  


Steve chuckled. "It's fine. We're on the same page. Everything is consensual and I could stop things at any time."  


"I don't understand it," Tony said after a bit of quiet. "And a lot of it's weird stuff that I don't want to think about. But you know I'm on your side if he doesn't make you happy. I'll cut that kid off if you say the word."  


Steve prodded Tony's expensive-looking shoe with his expensive and uncomfortable fetish boot. "I appreciate the thought."  


"Done with the coffee?" Tony asked. He traded the thermos for a small bottle of water. "Drink that. Then I have some Dominant-approved snacks to give you."  


When Steve had to nibble peanuts and grapes from the palm of Tony's hand he found it amusing how the genius billionaire was the one to squirm in embarrassment. Tony cursed and muttered complaints and then took a photo with his phone because Peter had demanded proof that Tony was going to continue Steve's dehumanization. "This is so weird."  


Steve took a moment to find privacy to pee, then Tony tacked him back up and Steve took them back to the house.  


Steve spent that night alone in the barn again, feeling even more content in his bed made of hay after jacking off several times.

* * *

The gait training and cart pulling and quiet time with Peter in the orchard continued until the fifth day. Clint had deemed Steve fit enough to be "put to work" and he was anxious that night alone in the stable wondering what that meant.  


When Peter brought breakfast he brought two surprises. The first was Natasha; Steve had heard the car pull up last night but hadn't known the identity of the driver until he heard her voice approaching the barn in the morning. When she entered the barn she had Clint following her, naked.  


Clint was beautiful to look at: slim, well muscled, and tan, and his mohawk gave him an extra feature of equineness. Steve hardly wanted to put his head back in the bucket to eat his breakfast because he wanted to watch Nat run her hands over Clint's skin and coo to him as he ate from his bucket.  


Peter laughed and gently shoved Steve's head into the oatmeal. "You're gonna want a good breakfast," he said. "You'll be seeing Clint practically all day."  


Steve was washed and rubbed down after eating, and he was put into his boots, handcuffs, but and bridle, and chest harness. There was two new additions: a tall, padded leather collar and leather blinders that narrowed Steve's sight to just in front of him.  


Steve was led to the practice paddock where Clint was already waiting dressed in identical tack. Peter guided Steve to stand next to Clint, and Natasha hooked rods that linked the backs of their collars and chest harnesses together. Steve was on the inside with Clint attached to him at his right side, and the lunge line was hooked to his bridle. Natasha held the line and whip even more confidently than Clint had. "Walk," Nat ordered, and they obeyed.  


It was arousing to be moving next to his friend. Steve could feel the body heat from Clint's skin and already could faintly smell Clint starting to sweat in the warm morning air. His head spun as he imagined how strong the scent would get once they had been exercising for a long period of time. The restriction of his vision meant that he wasn't able to see Clint, but had to match his movements through concentration on how the physical connections moved.  


They were practically of a height, but Clint's legs were a bit longer so Nat had him curb the length of his strides to match Steve's. They learned to walk sedately in tandem without making the bars keeping them tied together rattle too much. Steve would swear that after awhile they were breathing and their hearts beat in unison, and it was an unexpectedly heady sensation to feel so attuned to someone.  


"High-stepping walk," she commanded, and they did, using an unnatural knee-lifting step that demanded that they lift their legs high so that their thigh were parallel with the ground before lowering their foot back down. It was a much more intense way to walk and Clint naturally began to lag within a few minutes, but Nat didn't push him too hard.  


Pete made appreciative noises while they did the high stepping, and Steve felt a welling up of pride for himself and Clint and could only imagine what they looked like, naked and moving in synchronization.  


It was an especially long training session and they hadn't progressed faster than a brisk walk. The sun was nearly straight above the roof when they had cooled down and were led inside to have everything but the bridles and handcuffs removed and their bodies hosed off. Steve felt a brief twist of disappointment when they were detached and separated to rest in different stalls with buckets of water.  


Steve couldn't nap, though. His clit had been hard any time he hadn't had to focus on the precise movements of his body during their training, and he ached with humiliation of being on display to Natasha in that state and also with his complete lack of knowing whether Clint had been aroused at all.  


His hands were still cuffed but he had to get off. He tried to rub himself against the blanket-covered hay, but the straw was too loosely packed to press against to get much stimulation. He ended up groaning around his rubber bit and lying on his back in frustration.  


After a while the need to piss and his hunger made his erection subside. Steve had accustomed himself to peeing in the corner, and had been thankful that he'd chosen the corner with the most privacy from the camera when he had had to shit twice during his stay. Thankfully both times had been when he was uncuffed, so he had done his best to clean himself up after with more hay, but both times had been humiliating despite the lack of an audience because the mess was smelly and couldn't be overlooked when he was retrieved in the mornings. He was only comforted when neither Pete nor Clint had said anything.  


After relieving himself Steve went back to his bed and wondered when and how and if he would be given anything for lunch. Usually Peter fed him in the orchard as they spend time alone, but the routine had changed with the new involvement of Clint.  


Eventually their friends entered the barn with a tub instead of the buckets he and Clint had eaten breakfast from. The tub was put on the floor in the middle of the barn and Clint and Steve were brought out and their bridles and bits removed. "You'll need to share," Nat said, with a smirk just curling the corners of her mouth. "And you have three minutes before we take it away.  


Clint dove his head in immediately, but Steve felt shy. It still felt weird and demeaning to eat without hands, but he couldn't rip his gaze from the cubes of apple scattered with granola and sunflower seeds and globs of peanut butter. After maybe half a minute he finally made himself stick his head in. He had to maneuver around Clint's head as the tub wasn't very big, and found himself aroused again as he couldn't avoid Clint's skin and hair and smell. At one point Clint met his eye and winked as he licked peanut butter from his lips, and Steve was disoriented with a stab of erotic heat.  


When Natasha took the tub away they had managed to eat most of the food and their faces were a disarray of flecks of seeds and oats adhered to their skin with peanut butter smears. "Clean each other up," she ordered. Steve blushed as Clint readily obeyed and started licking the mess from his skin. He looked down and could see Clint's cock was erect and felt more intense waves of lust wash through his body.  


When Clint had finished Steve took his turn. He thoroughly enjoyed running his tongue over the stubble on Clint's chin and cheeks, and could feel himself blush hotter as he lapped at the tip of Clint's nose and his lips. He was forced to pull away so quickly that he almost got whiplash when Pete surprised him by spraying them with the hose. His boyfriend just grinned mockingly at Steve's undoubtedly grumpy expression.  


Peter put down the hose and bridled Steve again before pulling him up and looping his reins over the hanging hook. He wiped him down rather roughly with a towel and then sprayed him with sunblock before he put the collar from earlier back around his neck.  


Clint and Steve were led out to the orchard then their reins removed for longer straps that were tied around sturdy tree trunks. They were left without any instructions except to "Enjoy the view!"  


Naturally Steve and Clint were in view of each other. Steve shyly tried to keep his gaze averted from his friend and pretended to sit and look up at the leafy branches, but he could feel Clint staring at him and couldn't prevent himself for blushing or getting hard again. He eventually dared to meet his eyes and saw Clint grinning around his bit, sitting shamelessly on his knees with his thighs spread and his erection red and standing up proudly.  


Steve was sitting with his legs crossed, taking the time to appreciate not being plugged with the tail. Clint, strangely, still did have his tail, and once he was sure Steve was going to watch he deliberately began to grind his ass back against his heels to stimulate his prostate.  


Steve could feel himself drool as he watched his friend masturbate hands-free in the middle of the orchard. Then he realized why _he_ didn't have his butt plug and scowled as he mentally sent mean thoughts Peter and Natasha's way. To get off he could have to hump the ground as Clint watched, and that was much too mortifying a thought.  


He looked at the slack of the leash that connected him to the tree. He would bet both his and Clint's were just too short to allow them to touch each other and didn't want to give Natasha and Peter (and possibly Tony) the satisfaction of seeing him try (they _must_ be watching; the whole set-up was the type of predicament Peter loved to watch Steve struggle with).  


Steve, instead, found a relatively comfortable position on his side in the shade and closed his eyes. He thinks he managed to grab a bit of a nap after resting for a while with his eyes closed.  


Peter and Nat retrieved their "ponies" eventually and led them to the barn. There was a new set up: what looked like a cushioned log was on a stand in the middle of the empty space. There were two vertical bars holding it off the floor, and one end was maybe a foot lower than the other end. Peter led Steve to the higher end of the apparatus and bent him over so Steve was draped over the log. His arms were uncuffed and dangled on either side of the log he rested on and then the padded cuffs were put on and attached to the stand. He was now bent over with the thick cushioned cylinder there to take his weight from his abs to his chin with his ass up while his legs were still standing.  


When Peter started lubing his asshole he knew that he was going to be "bred." Natasha confirmed it when she began to speak. "My boy hasn't been allowed to breed a mare in a few years."  


"Steve's obviously not a real mare, but with his junk so small and useless I figured it was the only way for him to have the experience."  


"My stud hasn't ever fucked another stallion, but he seems pretty excited for his first time."  


Steve wondered whether Nat meant that this was Clint's first time fucking another man as a "horse" or as a human. Either way, he was excited, too, and was hoping he would be able to get off as well.  


Peter put on the straps that usually kept his horse tail plug in place, but didn't put in the plug. Steve wondered if it was going to go inside of him after the "breeding" to keep Clint's cum in him, and that made him try to rut his cocklet against the vinyl of the end of the structure but it couldn't reach.  


Finally Clint was allowed to mount Steve. Steve moaned around his bit while Clint's cock pushed into him; he hadn't had any direct sexual activity with anyone since arriving to this place, just his lonely nighttime masturbation.  


They were buckled together hips to hips and collar to collar. Clint's dick wasn't nearly the size of Peter's, but it was satisfying nonetheless. So far there was nothing to stimulate his own clitty, but Steve hoped that one of their "trainers" would give him a hand.  


It was amazing to have Clint's chest draped on his back; their skin was sweaty and too hot for the warm day, but Steve had missed having the extended touch that Peter usually gave him in the orchard in the afternoons.  


Clint came but was barely able to pull out due to the straps clipped from Steve's hip harness to his own. He made a noise of discomfort because the head of his dick couldn't fully pull away from contact with Steve's ass. It wasn't in his hole anymore, but the damp, sensitive head kept sticking lightly to Steve's sweaty butt.  


Steve turned his head to look around the barn as much as he could but wasn't able to see if Peter and Nat were still physically there. He dropped his hopes for an ejaculation of his own, because Clint wasn't likely to give him a reach-around with his hands still cuffed behind him.  


The two "ponies" were stuck in place for a long time until Clint started to get hard again. It took a lot of effort for Clint to get his cock back into Steve's hole without any helping hands, but once he was there Clint humped quickly, trying to get a second climax out so they be separated and give their respective chest and pelvis and back and buttocks fresh air because their accumulated body heat and sweaty hair was making things really uncomfortable.  


Thankfully, the second coming was what their partners were waiting for and they were unstrapped and hosed down once again.  


"Yours didn't come?" Natasha asked.  


Peter shook his head. "He can have internal orgasms when his vagina is fucked, but that's probably deeper than your horse's dick could reach. He still needs stimulation to his baby dick to empty his balls and have a real good orgasm."  


"It looks so hard," Nat said, crouching down so she could get face-to-face with it, so to speak.  


Steve had been so repeatedly turned on and denied release all day that his cocklet was obviously fed up with the torment and not even the cool water had brought it down this time.  


"You want to play with it?" Pete asked.  


"There's not much to play with," she answered.  


"Use your fingers to get him off. I've never actually seen him nut because of a woman, and he's never admitted any attraction to women. I'm interested to see if he's so desperate to get off that you can get him there."  


"Belive me, I can. Doesn't look like it'll take much."  


Steve's face and ears and even chest felt like they were covered in a blush as Nat critically examined and verbally emasculated him. After Steve's nod of consent to Pete and Nat, Natasha held his little peanut with three fingertips and stroked. It was like electricity to his balls and Steve gurgled around his bit.  


"I don't even need to use my wrist," Nat said. "It's so tiny."  
That was all Steve needed to cum, and he jerked out three ropey spurts onto her hand and the floor.  


"That's it?" She said. "That isn't much."  


"That's what he has," Peter said with a shrug. "You want to take them outside for another walk or put them in their stalls until dinner?"  


"Why don't we just put them both in the big box stall? I'm sure they would appreciate more bonding time."  


Steve and Clint were led to an empty stall and closed in. They both had their bits and bridles still on as well as their hooves. Client's hands were still handcuffed behind his back, but Steve's wrists only wore the separate padded bands. There wasn't any straw in the stall or water, but Steve was certain someone would return back before he was thirsty enough to open the stall himself. With all the drooling and sweating he was craving water pretty bad.  


It was good to have room for both of them to sprawl on the bare cement. Steve didn't care that real livestock had been housed in the same box before; he was too drained to be deterred by the old stains and dust on the floor.  


That night, after another dinner from the same tub as Clint, Steve was happy to have someone in the barn with him to talk to even though his friend was in another stall. With each other out of sight as they each lay on their straw mattress, it was easy to swap personal stories and even bring up feelings and fantasies. It kept Steve from missing his lover's usual presence as badly as he had the last several nights.

* * *

After breakfast and a short brush-up on matching their paces, Steve and Clint were hitched to a new large cart that carried Peter, Natasha and Tony. Instead of having their hands cuffed behind their backs, Nat thought they would enjoy having their outside wrists chained to their collars and their inside wrists tied to each other so that they held hands as they walked and trotted along. It embarrassed Steve instead, as it felt like they were two men skipping along hand-in-hand pretending to be young schoolgirls.  


It felt odd to be wearing clothing. Both the "ponies" had been given tight black compression shorts that covered them down to their knees. Steve was afraid that this meant that they would be encountering other people, and he was proven right when they were guided to a clearing with a picnic table that had Thor, Agent Coulson, and an unfamiliar female SHIELD agent waiting with abundance of food.  


Steve could feel Clint's hand tighten when he saw them, but with his blinders on he couldn't see whether Clint was ashamed or excited or both.  


Natasha introduced the agent as May to Tony and Peter and said that she was tired of always being on my around men.  


"Does the Black Widow want to gossip about the latest nail polish colors and hottest actors?" Tony joked, earning him several heavy glares and a light slap.  


After ten or fifteen minutes of greetings, a bucket of water was provided for the "horses" and then they were tied by their collars to a tree. They were instructed to sit and then Steve was relived that his rubber bit was removed. Unfortunately, with a mean sparkle in his eyes, Peter shoved a piece of metal into his mouth and locked it in. It lay along Steve's tongue all the way to the back of his mouth where it could block his throat if it moved wrong. He was relived that he didn't have a gag reflex.  


"This is a spoon bit," Natasha explained as she put one in Clint's mouth. Steve could hear Clint grunt and sigh in recognition and reluctance. "It's like an 8 made of solid but thin metal, with one end wider and longer than the other. The big end goes inside the mouth with the small end coming out between the teeth. They're going to find it impossible to just leave it alone," Natasha confided to Peter, indicating how Steve was clicking the front plate against his teeth and how Clint was periodically making rough noises as he gagged. "And they'll make the boys drool a lot, especially Clint." She patted him on the head.  


"Cool," Peter said, using his hand to wipe saliva from Steve's chin and lower lip and lifting it so that the man could see the amount and blush. "Have fun."  


Clint and Steve were left at the tree, which was about forty feet from the table where the others were. They didn't have anything to do but hold hands and focus on the uncomfortable plates in their mouths. Natasha had been right; the size of the metal bit and how it lay along his tongue made it impossible to ignore it and leave it alone, and Steve kept tonguing it even though he knew he had no hope of pushing it out of his mouth.  


Being ignored turned Steve on, and he was hard as he was left leashed with Clint but otherwise forgotten. Clint, on the other hand, kept squeezing Steve's hand like he was reassuring himself that he was still in contact with another human being because his blinders made sure that he couldn't see Steve's face or much of anything but some of his friend's legs.  


Unlike the day before in the orchard, the "ponies" were limited in how they could sit with their hands cuffed together. The time dragged on and on as they were left tied to the tree to fuss at their bits and sweat despite being in the shade.  


Tony was the one who came over to give them water and food. He removed Clint's bit and then Steve's, kindly leaving them bit-less as they drank more water. Steve felt like he drank gallons due to the hot temperature, workout, and drooling he had done since leaving the barn. "I'm not allowed to give you two much of a snack," he said apologetically. "But I'll make sure you guys get a good dinner." He then pulled an odd tube from his satchel. It was almost the length of a paper towel roll, but it was thicker and two weirdly shaped ends. The ends looked like rubber cups, and when Tony strapped one cup onto Clint's face Steve could see it covered his nose and mouth like a gas mask. The other end was attached to Steve's head and he could feel himself and Clint sharing air through the wide tube between their mouths.  


Tony then used a funnel to pour a mix of sunflower seeds and nuts and berries into the top of the tube. "You need to work together to share," he said, and Clint and Steve had to seesaw the tube up and down to direct food down to one mouth then the other. The movement required them to hunch their backs with their heads stuck facing each other awkwardly, and Steve's ears and face burned as he noticed that the chatter among their friends had stopped as they must have been distracted watching Steve and Clint eat.  


Tony poured more of their snack into the tube twice more then put the funnel away and removed the odd feeding tube. Steve's gaze had been locked onto Clint's face with the tube and blinders in place, and now he turned his head and saw the amused group of five staring at them from the picnic table. His little cock perked up and spurted precum into his shorts.  


"Stevie liked that," he heard Peter say to everyone, and a new bout of laughter rang out, with Thor's deep chuckles standing out.  


"Men do not do this on Asgard," he said. "Why are you demeaning our fellows by treating them as low beasts?"  


Natasha and Peter jumped in to inform him, and Steve turned away and tried to focus on the sounds of the cicadas to hide from the shame he felt at Thor's question.  


The visitors finally packed up the remains of the picnic feast and left without acknowledging the "ponies" directly. Clint and Steve were given another chance to drink before the remaining contents were splashed over them and their shorts removed.  


Steve's baby-sized dickie had softened but filled again immediately, to Nat and Peter's mocking. The usual rubber bits were replaced and the pair were led back to the cart. Steve fussed because he needed to urinate before they started going and Peter seemed to understand his problem and slapped him on the ass. "You either wait 'til we're home or piss as you run, like a real horse."  


Steve vowed that he would definitely not piss as he ran, but not too long after getting on the road Clint let loose without any hesitation, getting urine on his legs and boots and even splatters onto Steve. Perversely, Clint's nonchalance at his dirty act made Steve need to go even more urgently and his dick started to dribble as he jogged. It messed up his gait, and Natasha whipped him sharply and strongly on his lower back and the shock of the sudden pain made him let go completely. His face burned and he teared up with mortification, but no one said anything.  


It was a blessing to get back to the barn and be hosed off. The urine had dried in sticky splatters and drips on his skin that had collected dust from the road and made him itch. He was happy to go back into his stall even if his dick was caged with the cowbell and his wrists now both attached to his collar with short chains, because everything else was off and he could rest.  


There was another messy dinner that required Steve and Clint to lick each other clean, and Steve's bell rang as his tiny caged clitty tried to harden.  


"Do you want your boots back on before you're mounted?" Peter asked. Steve had no idea what he meant, but his feet were sore so he shook his head. Clint, on the other hand, agreed, and Steve wondered if his friend knew what was happening. This was a new game; he had never had to do anything after dinner except be alone in his stall, but he was hoping that "mounting" meant Clint was going to fuck him again.  


Instead, Clint had his boots laced on and then was led to the box stall. Steve was left alone with his reins on a hook as Peter joined Natasha to help or observe whatever was going on. When Steve was led into the large stall he balked. Clint was standing on his hooves with his arms attached to a bar that was hanging from a thick chain thrown over a beam. In addition to being forced to stand, he was mounted on a dildo with a tiny saddle that gave him barely any relief from the strain from hanging his weight from his arms or balancing on his toes.  


The saddle waiting for Steve had a dildo nearly the size of one of his biggest toys at home and there were barely three inches of a ledge surrounding it to take his weight. His fingers were wrapped around a heavy metal bar and his wrist cuffs hooked to it. Nat ratcheted up the chain until Steve rose high enough for Peter to wedge a shoulder under Steve's bare ass as he used a fist to lube up his hole. Steve was then moved over the dildo and slowly lowered as it opened him and took his weight until Steve's toes reached the ground and he was truly mounted with the dildo impaling him up up his ass and into his vagina.  


Steve was forced between keeping his weight on his hands, toes, or ass and all three options were uncomfortable. He cussed as he kept trying to find a comfortable position but none were available. Peter crossed his arms and laughed at him as the cowbell on his chastity device jangled loudly whenever he shifted his weight. "If you keep swearing, I can give you the spoon bit to keep you quiet."  


Steve tensed and shook his head, eyes wide. He would not like that at all.  


Natasha was petting Clint and putting a ring around his dick and her gentle cooing was making Steve jealous. He wanted Peter to stroke him and talk to him nicely like that, but his boyfriend was just laughing and threatening him. He began to cry, even as the cowbell kept making cheerful clacking noises as his cock tried to respond to his arousal at his debasement.  


"If you stay quiet and good I won't leave you up there all night," Peter said, before following Natasha out. They turned off the lights and left the "ponies" with only the fading light of late sunset coming in through the windows. Steve could see Clint adjusting his weight occasionally, but he had enough upper body strength to hold himself up for decent stretches of time and the hoof boots helped spread the weight on his toes.  


Steve had really toned up in the last handful of days, losing weight and improving his stamina and strength- but hadn't done much to rebuild the muscles of his upper body. His leg and core muscles got a serious workout as he constantly adjusted his stance.  


He was relived when both he an Clint were rescued in the middle of the night. They were stripped of everything then led to the house where they were washed and cuddled in beds and went to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why did it take me so long to remember pony play? This was one of the first really heavy kinks I read about and fapped to over a decade ago when I was reading Gundam Wing and Harry Potter fanfics.
> 
> Speaking of comments, thanks for them! I now have a Thor & the Warriors Three gangbang I need to orchestrate. I don't know how it's going to happen, but it will.


	16. public humiliation, electrical stimulation, sex toys, fetish wear, unexpected pie in the face kink (pie is expected, but the orgasm is not), unrealistically quick and numerous orgasms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After some conditioning, Peter puts Steve in a disguise and he explores some public humiliation in a very unexpected way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how electricity works; I'm more interested in biology. (wink) I have a whole rant on why I dislike the A/B/O trope that no one cares about. But don't @ me about realistic orgasms and refractory periods; "super serum" makes those facts meaningless.
> 
> Anyways, hope someone enjoys this weird little installment.

After returning home after a week as a pony, Steve was still encouraged to work out. Peter said he wanted to make the exercises harder for Steve. "Let's try this," he said one day, pulling out a box of new toys. There was a butt plug, mouth guard, and a strange metal disk.  
"What's this?" Steve asked, confused.  
"Trust me," Pete said. "It'll be fun for both of us."  
Steve dubiously slicked the plug and put it in then bit down on the rubber mouth guard. Peter put the disk on the floor in a clear space. "Pushups," he ordered. "I want your nose to touch the metal plate."  
Steve maneuvered himself onto his palms and toes with his face over the disk and lowered himself until his nose hit the metal. As soon as he did there was jolt against his prostate. He made a muffled surprised noise..  
"Keep working out until you cum," his boyfriend commanded with a grin, knowing Steve was going to have to do a lot of pushups very quickly. But he could handle it.

* * *

The e-stim made Steve work out with more enthusiasm than he had had for physcial fitness since before the Battle of New York. They found several different exercises that could be improved with the use of electricity and Steve's small "package" didn't make erections limit his mobility at all.  
Steve wasn't sure what all of this was leading up to, but Peter obviously had something in mind.  
With experimentation they found a system and voltage that could give Steve an orgasm at the first shock. It made him useless to do more than one perfect rep of any exercise, but Peter made Steve practice and practice until they knew exactly how many times Steve could be zapped to come and what refractory period he needed. They sped up his times until Steve could do one push-up, come, wait 30 seconds to do another, and immediately come again at least ten times in a row.  
It was exhausting, and Steve knew they were getting close to whatever thing Peter plotted, but he couldn't say no because it felt so good to be triggered to cum like a robotic thing in such a methodical way.  
Peter and Steve took one of Tony's planes to California in September. For a vacation, Pete said, but Steve had a suspicion that something else was planned.  
There was a good week of traveling up the coast until they arrived in San Francisco. He should have guessed that something gay and kinky was going to happen there, and Peter gave him a box with a wicked grin.  
"What's this?"  
"Something new," Peter said.  
It was definitely new. It was a rainbow wig. "What the hell?" There was a cap for his hair under it, a leather chest harness, a package of face paint, a neck ruff, diaper, Spandex shorts, big baggy polka-dotted pantaloons, red suspenders, and giant white clown shoes.  
"Put it on!" Peter demanded.  
"This is weird," Steve said. It was confusing.  
Peter made him put on the diaper and chest harness first, not allowing Steve to pull out the long dildo he still had inside of him from their play early that morning. The Spandex shorts went on next, then the clowny pants. The neck ruff matched the pantaloons: light blue satiny material with white circles, and the suspenders were much wider than normal. Peter tucked his hair into the cap and then put the wig on and secured it with bobby pins before he got to work on Steve's face. He then helped Steve put on the oversized shoes; they squeaked whenever he took a step. "Ta-da!" Peter said as he turned Steve toward a mirror.  
It was hideous. A combination of muscles and leather adulterated with silly clown gear. The shorts and stupid pants disguised the diaper. Peter had given him a white face with big red smiling lips and blue diamonds around his eyes.  
"Is this turning you on?" Steve asked.  
"Nope," Peter laughed. "You?" He groped the front of the diaper with his fingers but Steve wasn't hard.  
"Almost forgot," Peter said, and he retrieved a red rubber clown nose and put in on Steve's nose. It squeaked like the shoes when Pete pinched it.  
"If this isn't a kink thing, than why am I dressed like this?"  
"Oh, it's definitely a kink thing. Look!" Peter pulled aside a curtain and didn't need to point out that behind the double-pained windows of the expensive hotel room there was a huge crowd of people dressed (or not) in various leather items as well as latex and other materials. "It's a leather festival, and you are going to make money for charity!"  
Steve shook his head and frowned. "No I'm not."  
"Yes you are. We've got a booth already set up, and you're going to love it. Everyone down there is equally freaky and no one is going to know who you are. C'mon!"  
Steve did trust Peter and he was intrigued in what this event was. He managed to be excused to use the bathroom before they left and was happy that his boyfriend didn't seem to want him to use the diaper. It reassured Steve that he only seemed to be wearing it to add to his private feelings of humiliation instead of it being a tool for public embarrassment.  
There was a booth set up. "PIES!!!" Yelled one sign, while there were others saying that all profits would go to a wildlife foundation. "$10 a pie" made Steve sure that not many people were going to end up paying such a steep price, but the posterboard declaring "Cream their face and they'll cream their pants!" made Steve more hesitant. "Getting a pie in the face is not one of my kinks," he said into Pete's ear.  
He just grinned. "I'm sure it will be after today! But if it isn't, then you have nothing to worry about."  
There was a big Latino man at the booth who smiled at both of them. "I'm Emil. Ready to get started?"  
Steve nodded uncertainly, but Peter was all enthusiasm. There was a van behind the booth and the stranger opened the back to display racks full of cream pies. "500, just as ordered," he said.  
"And you're going to bark for us?"  
Email laughed. "Considering the crowd, that could be taken the wrong way! But yes, I'm going to scream at the crowd until all those pies are gone."  
"Let's get started!" Peter said.  
Emil roared at the crowd. "Pie-throwing! Hit the clown in the face! Ten bucks a pie!"  
Steve's head was spinning at how fast this was happening. He stood still and watched the odd crowd mill about in their costumes or simple nakedness with collars and chains until Peter wheeled something from behind the van.  
"See-through stocks!" Peter said cheerfully. He lifted the the top half of the tall plastic rectangle, looked expectantly at Steve, and Steve meekly stepped over in his loud floppy shoes to put his wrists and neck in the half moons cut into the open plexiglass sheet. Peter closed the top segment behind his head leaving Steve bent over with his hands and head exposed on the front and the rest of his body hunched but visible on the other side. Peter locked the two pieces together with a heavy Masterlock on one side.  
A petite woman wearing leather trousers and electrical tape crosses over heir nipples handed over the money for the first throw. She had a shaved head and the gleam of a Domme in her eyes. "Can I call him names?"  
"Sure," Peter said, standing to the side with his arms crossed.  
"Gonna get some cream on your face, clown-slut!" She shouted, earning cheers and jeering hoots from the crowd of women around her. She threw it, and the pie landed directly on Steve's face. The nose squeaked and an electric shock jolted the dildo and his prostate and Steve came entirely without warning.  
"What the fuck?!" Steve said to his lover after he spat custard and whipped cream out of the way.  
The women shrieked th laughter as Steve's orgasm had not gone unnoticed. "He actually came!" One of the women shrieked, and the booth was suddenly inundated with interested fairgoers.  
The next pie didn't hit him dead-on, only splattering half of his face, and the crowd booed in disappointment but seemed even more intrigued with the game.  
Whenever a pie hit Steve full on the face he came involuntarily. Peter and Emil worked hard to keep the plexiglass wiped down and cleared so that those watching could see when Steve tightened up and jizzed into his diaper. Part of Emil's pitch involved a white board where the number of times "Horny the Clown" had "creamed" kept getting higher. After three hours Steve had come 58 times, mostly dryly and painfully, and was exhausted. Peter unlocked the padlock and let him stand up. "Don't worry, we've got other clowns to rotate in," he said, and sure enough a women in a latex catsuit with a painted face and bubblegum pink pigtails waved and took Steve's place. She had another woman with her who gave Peter a hug before Pete led Steve to get some privacy behind the van.  
Peter pulled baby wipes from the passenger seat and wiped the pie bits from Steve's face. "Good job. Bet you want water and a nap."  
"Definitely," Steve grumbled. "And this thing out of my ass, and everything else _off_. Did you have a remote in your pocket? I never saw you holding anything." Steve had not been able to figure out how getting hit by a pie triggered the erotic shocks in his ass.  
"Special pie pans," Pete said with a wink, and he honked the clown nose.  
It was like the mouthguard and the metal disk! Steve shook his head, somehow even more turned on knowing that it had been actual strangers controlling when he orgasmed through skill and luck. He didn't say anything, though, just led Peter guide him by his hand back to their hotel, wincing at the cacophony of squeaks and squishes he heard every time he took a step.


End file.
